


Dancing Under The Spotlight

by pureklaination



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 18:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pureklaination/pseuds/pureklaination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chris lands the lead role in a local theatre company’s performance of Dirty Dancing he doesn’t anticipate the drama that goes along with it. The female lead who gets on everyone’s nerves , the past which comes back to haunt him and an eventful trip intgo the closet with the director. Shame Chris’s girlfriend doesn’t approve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing Under The Spotlight

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Darren Criss or Chris Colfer or anything affiliated with them. I ask that this not be forwarded in any way, shape or form to the people in question.

They didn't know each other from a bar of soap at the beginning. Each went about their lives not knowing of what could be, of what was about to be, just around the corner.

The tension started from the moment he walked into the audition room. Darren, sitting in the middle of the judging panel, locked eyes on the pale blue of the auditionee, questioning himself as to why this particular person had caught his undivided attention from the second he walked into the room.

Black jeans, white button-down and brown hair. A slight build but the body of a dancer. Pale skin and eyes that pierced his senses.

"Hi, I'm Chris Colfer. I'll be auditioning for the role of Johnny Castle." Chris held a copy of the audition script in his right hand. With a final glance over it, he put it near the wall with his backpack and sunglasses.

Chris' voice hit Darren like a freight train. It was high, very high. He scanned the reaction of his co-panellists. They all wore similar interested looks.

In his experience, audition days were always long and drawn out and Darren had been over it before it began, which was that morning. However, there had only been one person auditioning for the part of the lead male so far. This guy had to be good or they would have to cast the part from inside the company, which Darren didn't particularly want to do with this show. He wanted someone fresh to try and bring some life into the stagnating company of actors and actresses.

Darren watched as Chris delivered the lines without fault. He could only have had the script for a maximum of 24 hours and yet there he was, more familiar with the words and performing them as if he'd been rehearsing for weeks to get into the character's head than the production team who hadn't given nearly as much thought to the depth of performing that Chris apparently had.

The first week into the new year, they had chosen Dirty Dancing as the group number. Open auditions in the past had been… interesting. It had been a rather mixed bag of talented performers and dismal efforts. Due to the limited availability for the female roles, that portion of the audition day had been taken care of in less than two hours. Filling the smaller roles was always going to be the easy part, but filling the larger ones was more challenging, and the wait for people to turn up and audition was downright boring.

But then here was Chris. He wanted the lead. He had to be the best of any gender they'd seen that day in Darren's opinion, and if not the best, pretty damn close to it.

Darren, Harry and Josh were running the show. Literally. They split the director, producer and choreographer roles between them to be in charge of auditions, rehearsals and eventually, the performance itself.

When he was finished, Chris shook their hands with a quiet 'thanks for your time' and walked out.

Darren suddenly realised he had zoned out for over half of the audition, too distracted by the amazing possibilities of casting Chris in the lead position. He looked over to Harry and figured his reaction out from the expression on his face his face: stunned but delighted disbelief.

"We need to get him back for a second audition. This time including a song," Josh broke in as he stared at the door.

Darren raised an eyebrow.

"He's going to be perfect! That air of collected confidence is exactly what we need, providing he doesn't buckle on stage. What do you think Darren?" Harry inquired.

"I think he was good," Darren replied easily, the options still tumbling through his mind. "But do you think he will be able to pull of the bad-boy look. He looks very... sweet?"

Josh rolled his eyes. "You watched him, didn't you? The guy's a natural. This comes down to him playing opposite Lydia, doesn't it? You can't let your bias come out in this, Darren. We're not going to cave and just let you have all the male leads just because your girlfriend is the leading lady. You chose to direct this time! Get your shit together and get back to us on when we can get him back in." Josh walked out the side door in the direction of the adjacent foyer in a huff.

Harry just continued scribbling his notes, not paying much attention to the conversation that had taken place in front of him.

"Harry…? I'm not...I'm not biased, am I? What's wrong with wanting to find a really good lead for this part? He has to be good, not just for Lydia. This is why we are holding open auditions in the first place! Fresh meat and all that." Darren's words tumbled out before he really thought about them. He was always like that, speaking first and then thinking. And realising that what he'd said had probably been inappropriate, rude, offensive, or all three.

"Dude, chill. Chris is the only guy we've had audition for Johnny. Josh is entitled to be a little stressed. I don't think you're biased. Just relax and give him a call to come back in tomorrow with a song." Harry gave him a half-smile and went back to flicking through the audition sheets in front of him.

Darren sighed. Harry was right, of course. It wasn't the first time they'd encountered problems with auditions and casting. This thing that the three of them had started was getting better known now, but it was still slow and frustrating. The shows were how he'd met Lydia, who auditioned for a role with them two years prior and had just sort of... stuck around.

Harry and Darren had been friends since college, Josh appearing when the small company had started. He was one of the first people who had volunteered for more work and actually done the work, not just slacking off like so many other performers Darren had seen come through. Where Harry was tall, a natural fluid dancer and had one of the most relaxed personas Darren had ever come across, Josh was shorter with the stereotypical locks of blond hair, blue eyes and a killer smile that could make anyone in a ten metre radius swoon. Which had caused several problems in the past and a large part of why they often struggled to retain females for longer than a show or two. But how could Darren tell Josh to stop being such an outrageous flirt? He couldn't. He was a friend. So instead he'd sat back and rolled his eyes as the revolving process of girls hung off Josh's arms while trying to remain as professional as he could with everyone and keeping his relationship with Lydia stable.

It was a small group. It always had been. People came and went and that was okay. But it was still surprising that Chris had only just auditioned, because they were always short on people to fill a production, especially males who had quality singing voices.

Darren leaned back in his chair to prise his phone from the pocket of his jeans, snatching Chris' audition form to steal his number. The phone rang off until Chris' voicemail picked up and he left a short message to come back in the next day with a song prepared and to call him back if he had any questions.

"What have we got left today?" Darren interrupted Harry's scribbling again.

"Just a few of the smaller roles – Lisa, Neil and Robbie. We should be finished by two or three. Why the rush? Have important plans tonight?" Harry looked up at him with a vague look of expectation.

"Just my anniversary with Lydia..." Darren trailed off. He should have organised this properly or at least made reservations somewhere, but he'd been so distracted with auditions that the date had sort of crept up on him without him realising until this morning.

"Darren!" Harry chastised when he realised Darren had the evening so poorly planned. "You've been together a year! You should have gotten her a present and prepared to take her out or at least something?" Darren's head hit the desk with an audible thump and he groaned into the plastic surface. He was screwed.

Harry shook his head and tossed his pen onto his sheaf of papers. "Just go. I can handle the rest of these and I'll take enough notes of anyone that comes through that we can make the final decision together if it's not immediately obvious to me and Josh."

Darren peeked over at Harry and smiled gratefully. "Yeah, okay. I'll just stop by and let Josh know first. He'll probably be pissed but...whoops?"

Harry rolled his eyes and shooed Darren out. He collected his phone, keys and notepad and stuffed them into the backpack as he left the theatre space to find Josh. He was leaning against the wall, a cigarette drooping from his fingers, and he tiredly agreed that as long as Darren would be back to do the lock up at 4:30, it was be fine to leave now and he was a terrible boyfriend.

Darren couldn't help internally agreeing.

Dinner with Lydia always seemed like a challenge. He had to to find somewhere nice enough that she deemed acceptable, but was still affordable for his fairly restricted budget. And there desperately needed to be some level of atmosphere and things to look at and point out because her conversation skills were only just enough to keep things going, but rarely enough to get him enthralled and carried away discussing a topic with her.

Darren tried, he really did, but Lydia just…she wasn't very affectionate. She was wonderful, sweet, kind and beautiful and he loved her deeply, but they had the kind of relationship you have with your best friend, not your lover. The term "lover" was used dubiously even in his own mind. They weren't particularly intimate. They didn't communicate through hand holding, kisses or caressing. They used language, but it sort of felt cold and distant, kind of stiff and forced rather than just easy and natural.

Sex, making love, whatever you wanted to call it...it was an effort made on special occasions. And although he didn't really know any differently, he still wasn't sure it was strictly normal for a relationship. He'd only had one girlfriend before Lydia and that was a whirlwind of teenage hormones rather than the level of commitment required in a relationship. That he still wasn't sure he was feeling.

But the routine, the feeling… He was comfortable with it. Satisfied. They'd been living together for six months and everything was just...fine, really. It wasn't good and it wasn't bad but it was them and it worked.

If nothing else, Lydia was the ultimate leading lady. She had long brown hair, blue eyes and full lips, all accompanied with a beautiful hourglass figure and of course talented enough to land most of the lead roles the company had offered to date. She was technically perfect. Apart from not being able to hold a conversation and neither of them particularly interactive.

Regardless, he did put a lot of effort into organising the rest of the day. He made sure to send her a text to be ready to go at seven, planning the restaurant, flowers and a quick stop off at the jewellers for a present, a white gold chain with a silver heart pendant which was classy but not too ostentatious.

He made a quick trip to the hairdressers and decided on a quick stop off at home to drop off the purchases before he'd have to head back to the theatre to close up as he'd promised Josh. And he was pushing his luck because it was 4.28 when he parked the car haphazardly in the driveway. It didn't matter. He wasn't staying long.

He put the key in the lock, still thinking through everything he needed to get done in time and dropped his bag on the floor by the door, fumbling to take his shirt off at the same time and step out of his shoes - anything to make his stop quicker. He raced to the ensuite, barging through the bedroom as he wrestled with his belt.

And stopped.

Fuck.

Lydia.

She was home from work early. Apparently. If her long white legs wrapped around the torso of another person, in their bed, and in their house, was anything to go by.

While he organised their anniversary.

The man craned his neck to see what Lydia was looking at.

"Oh shit. Darren, it's not-"

His expression turned cold. "Josh," he spat, before turning around, retrieving his bag and shirt from the foyer, and walking out with the door slamming behind him.

When he arrived at the studio, the last of a small group were just filing out to their cars. Harry was standing in the doorway looking apologetic.

"Shit man, I'm sorry. I should have called. I ended up staying late and could have done the close up without you."

Harry glanced up from the keys in his hand and caught the look on Darren's face. "Wait, what happened? Is everyone okay? What's wrong?"

The barrage of questions startled Darren out of his daze slightly. He slumped to the floor as the emotions started to overwhelm him, his face in his hands as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"She was there…with Josh. I don't...what the fuck? I just...why would they…? She would hardly let me… And I don't understand. When the fuck did this happ-" His words trailed off as his shoulders shook and his words became more broken and incoherent.

Harry got the gist of the situation, thank God. "Darren? Lydia and Josh were...together together or…?"

"Yeah, they...they were…i-in bed." What had he done to deserve this? Why now? What was he meant to do about the show?

The never-ending streams of questions in Darren's head were going around in nauseating and anxiety-riddled circles.

"Do you...um... Do you wanna go get a drink or something? You can crash at mine after for a while if you needed. There's a spare bed that would be better than that couch over there." Harry gestured at the couch in the office. "Not to mention the OH&S problems of you sleeping on-site anyway."

Darren pulled himself together a bit, but nothing was going to stop that crushing feeling around his throat, his heart, his stomach. It felt like there was an elephant on his chest, or a snake constricting him. "Y-yeah, that'd be great. Thanks man."

They hit the bar around the corner, drinking more shots than he'd ever had before. Harry lived a few blocks further down and his keys got confiscated. Instead of being annoyed (because somewhere a voice of logic and reason said that driving in this state was a bad, bad idea), Darren and Harry slung arms over shoulders and around hips, staggering along the footpath and singing obnoxiously loudly in the direction of Harry's apartment. Harry wobbled him towards the spare bed and as soon as his body hit the cushiony mattress, he promptly passed out into a haze of alcohol, exhaustion and emotion.

Darren woke with his head reverberating with every movement. The amount of light being let in through his half-lidded eyes was way, way too intense. He got out of bed, turned to walk to the bathroom and instead smacked into a wall.

Ow.

When he cracked open his eyes, he looked around the unfamiliar surroundings and the images trickling back into his mind.

Lydia and Josh. Driving to the studio. Walking to the bar and some sketchy memories of wobbling back to Harry's place.

Right.

Uuuuugh. He needed a shower, some clean clothes, and then get to the studio by ten for the second round of auditions. Where was his phone…?

The backlight was bright as he squinted at the tiny numbers. 9:47am. Shit.

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep breath. He would have to leave now to even get to the studio on time. Some kind of director he was.

As he hurried into the kitchen to grab a glass of water or something, he spotted a note that was from Harry.

'Meet you at the studio when you get up. Don't stress.'

Not stressing was easier said than done though as Darren felt the waves of guilt wash over him at being such an appalling director so early on.

Darren made it to the studio at 10:03am, crashing through the foyer doors and heading toward the side door to the theatre. The sound from inside made him stop in his tracks.

Feel her breath on my face

Her body close to me

Can't look in her eyes

She's out of my league

Just a fool to believe

I have anything she needs

She's like the wind

He pried open the door to peek in, leaning against the doorframe and letting the song drift over him, any thoughts of the last twenty-four hours erased from his mind as he listened.

Chris was standing in front of a row of three chairs where Harry and Josh were sitting. Lydia and a few others in the company were sitting with their legs dangling off the stage, courteously being quiet. The thoughts about the young man were back. Darren could hardly focus on the people because he couldn't tear his eyes away from Chris in his light denim jeans, white button-down top and Doc Martens. Where did the man get off looking so good? Darren was being put to shame in the cargos, college shirt and his god-awful hangover and probably horrendously bad morning breath.

The song tapered off and he was clapping before anyone had noticed he was even standing there.

"Great job, Chris! Rehearsals start next week, so we'll see you then, alright? Actually, how about we go and get a coffee right now and discuss the role in more detail?"

Darren looked at Harry directly. "I'll meet you back here about 4.30, if that's okay? I'll grab one of those cast packs on the way out for Chris. Talk to you later."

With that he strolled out, a rather dazed Chris running after him.

"I'm sorry, but what just happened?" Chris tried unsuccessfully to get his attention. "Mister Criss, would you just stop and talk to me? I can't spend all afternoon having coffee! I've got plans already and…" His voice faded as Darren turned around to face him, his hazel eyes pleading.

"If not coffee, can we just... get out of here? I can't be in the same room with them today and we do need to talk about the part and make sure you're aware of the scheduling and have the script and stuff like that." Darren gestured towards the packed envelope he was picking up from the table next to them.

"So… I got the part? You don't need to like, confer with anyone or audition anyone else?" Chris was kind of stunned.

"I'm the director. I get the final say, and I say you have the part. Welcome to the team! We should talk." He was talking too fast and he knew he was probably overwhelming Chris but he really didn't want to be there anymore. He walked towards the door and paused as he stared across the parking lot. "I would ask if you just wanted to go to my place and chat about it there, but that's not really an option right now so uh...pick your destination, so long as it's not here. Please."

Chris was reasonably sure that Mister Criss hadn't been such a neurotic mess yesterday. Something serious must have happened to cause the pacing, the sharp words, the quick retorts, the desperation in his eyes that made him look like a caged animal.

Chris sucked his lip between his teeth, thinking it over. "Well, I have to get ready to go out tonight. Do you want to come back to my place and have a coffee there? We can talk while I get organised."

Chris bit his lip as he considered the anxious posture of his new director. "Well, I have to get ready to go out tonight. Do you want to come back to my place and have a coffee there? We can talk while I get organised."

Darren nodded stiffly and made to move towards his car. He just needed to get away.

"I could drive, especially if you have to come back later anyway?" Chris called, interrupting Darren's walk. "I-if you wanted. I can bring you back on my way out? I don't mind. I'm headed back in this general direction later on anyway," Chris explained.

"Um, yeah, okay," Darren walked back over. "Actually, do you mind if we make a quick stop at my place? I'm sorry. It's only a few blocks away and I just have to pick up a few things." Like my life, he added in his head.

Darren was thinking quickly. Josh and Lydia were both still inside, which meant this could be his only chance to grab the few truly special possessions from the house without ever having to be alone with them. And a toothbrush. He needed to brush his teeth. Badly.

"Actually, wait, no. I'm going to take my car. Sorry. I'm... Can you write your address? I could be there in twenty minutes, if that's okay? I just really need to grab a few things from my place while I can."

Chris raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for more information. When Darren remained silent, he wrote his address down on the lip of the envelope and handed it back to him. Chris raised an eyebrow but Darren wasn't forthcoming with any further details, so he wrote down his address on the lip of the envelope and held it out for him to grab. "On one condition. When you get there, you explain what's going on.

Darren let out a deep sigh. "Yeah, no worries. I'll see you in twenty."

Thirty minutes later, Darren pulled into the driveway of Chris' house, a reasonably sized white building with stairs leading up to the door and potted plants lined up on each side. He knocked once and the door opened, revealing Chris looking vaguely panicked and wet, clad in only a towel.

Oh.

There were drops of water still trailing down the curve of his collarbone and a pink blush across his cheeks from the hot water.

"Uh...I'm just going to get some clothes on and then we can talk. Be right back!" Chris walked – no, what Chris was doing with his hips could not be construed as walking. It was more like sashaying across the living room to his room. "Make yourself at home," he called through the door as it closed.

Darren was completely baffled. It's not that he minded being attracted to the possibly-underage young man that was opposite his now ex-girlfriend playing the lead role in Dirty Dancing, the production that he was directing and helping choreograph. It was just…the interest in his pants was not going to make conversation any easier.

He was stunned into silence and became lost in thought for a few moments. He wondered where these feelings had come from and decided it must be a rebound thing. His body was responding to the lack of intimacy he'd coveted and never had enough of from Lydia because there was no way he should be responding quite this enthusiastically.

He tried hopping up on a stool and inconspicuously crossing his legs, but perched up so high and awkwardly at the breakfast bar made that almost impossible and he nearly fell off into an unattractive heap on the floor. Instead, he took in the design of the kitchen and hoped that the mundane thoughts would distract him.

It was very nicely decorated, with white walls and high ceilings and a feature wall covered in black and white photographs and coloured paintings. Chris had very good taste in décor with enough furniture to accommodate a few people comfortably but not enough that it felt the room was cluttered and crowded.

"Okay. So you wanted to talk about the play?"

And the problem in his pants was back.

Stellar.

Chris stepped out of the room in a full three-piece tailored suit: traditional black pants, a white shirt, and a black vest. The top three buttons were still open and his hair wasn't brushed yet.

That was…okay.

He could handle this.

Oh hell. He was smitten and he didn't even know why.

"So Mister Criss. Can I offer you a cup of coffee while we chat?" Chris walked in that peculiar way of his past Darren and into the kitchen.

"Call me Darren, please. I can't handle that 'Mr. Criss' title for long. And yes, um, milk and two sugars please."

Chris set about getting out the cups and pottering around the kitchen while the kettle boiled. "So are you going to tell me what made you bolt today? I'm sorry if it's none of my business but if you do want to talk about it then you can. If you want. Uh...yeah, okay shutting up now."

Darren inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes and letting his face fall into his hands as everything he'd been trying to block out reared back to the forefront of his thoughts. "Uh, in short... I was organising my one-year anniversary with Lydia - the other lead - yesterday. I stopped off at home to drop off a few things and found her fucking Josh." Oh God, I said that all out loud didn't I? Shit. Filter, Darren. Filter.Darren made to amend his words a little. "Sorry, that was completely unprofessional and you don't want or need to know about the private life of your co-performers-"

Chris just stared and then swallowed nervously. "Can I ask you honestly why the other men in your group didn't want the lead in this play?"

Darren wriggled around in his chair, a little uncomfortable. "Well, I'm directing, and I can't act and direct because it's a conflict of interest. Harry's primarily a choreographer and Josh decided he didn't want a big part in this production because his day job has been taking up a lot of his time lately... I guess I know why now, but at the time it seemed like a perfectly good option to hold open auditions and get some new people involved in the group." Darren answered as honestly and simply as he could. It wasn't relevant to add in that Lydia was a little difficult to work with and constantly correcting whoever was her counterpart in any production, Darren included. He figured Chris would see that for himself soon enough.

"Can I ask you a question back?" Chris nodded. "Was this your first audition? There really aren't that many people in this town interested enough in performance that we haven't come across before."

Chris smiled a fraction with his answer, like it left a bitter taste in his mouth and turned away to organise the coffees. "I'm not from around here originally. I have a…particular aura about me that…people just don't seem to like. Of course, it could be the voice too."

"So people just…didn't like you? Why on earth not? You have a very unique voice, and that's just part of your talent. Why are people so narrow-minded?"

"Oh no, it was other things as well. There were remarks made on everything about me: my voice, clothing, choice in movies or music, sexuality. In the end, I decided to leave and house-sit for my aunt for the rest of the year before starting college. Just give myself a year off before going back to it all. So here I am. I saw the audition notice and thought I would give it a go." Chris handed Darren his mug of coffee and continued. "I suppose I've tried out for some community theatre before but the lead roles were…rather too daunting, I guess. So I stayed in minor ensemble roles."

Darren sipped at his coffee, his eyes wandering unbidden down the long line of Chris' neck without paying much attention because the column of Chris' throat was simply divine and he couldn't help wondering at the sounds Chris would make as he bit into it.

He'd always been quite open with his views on people and sexuality and love. Falling in love for Darren was based on a person rather than their gender, how they made him feel and the communication more than the physical attributes. There was a particular crush he'd had back in high school, a guy he'd met in the library, that he tried not to think about anymore. They used to meet and talk for hours every few days, right up until Darren had tried to ask him out. He'd only been eighteen but feelings were feelings and the guy, Simon, had run a mile, ignoring pre-arranged meetups and basically just disappearing and Darren had never seen him again.

That was his first heartbreak. And they hadn't even dated.

Simon was rather swiftly followed by Elizabeth. She was…friendly and physical and there was no relationship per se, just a lot of physical interaction, but Darren had fallen in love with being touched and caressed. He admitted his feelings to her one night after a particularly fast encounter in a local park. She told him that whatever she'd been doing, it certainly wasn't falling in love and to leave her alone. He'd been pretty broken for a little while after that.

But a year later, along came Lydia with her beautiful smile and stunning voice. And while she might not have necessarily been his 'type', because she got a bit diva-y and she didn't engage him in conversation well, it was the first time he'd truly felt loved in return, someone he believed who had wanted him just as much as he'd wanted them. Things had admittedly progressed pretty fast, moving in together after only six months and settling into their routine of moving in the same worlds at different speeds. But something had shifted along the way. The intimacy that Darren had relied on began to slow down and he hadn't really noticed at the time, but that must had been when she and Josh had started…well, whatever their thing was.

Now here he was, sitting in Chris' house, already craving to touch and be touched and it just…couldn't happen. He wouldn't subject the young man to another pointless advance only to be hurt.

Not that it was something he would jump into anyway. Maybe they could just be… friends.

Chris, on the other hand, had finished his coffee because of the excess amount of milk he put in to cool it, and was now leaning up against the counter reading through the rehearsal schedule and glancing through the script. It would be an intense month and a half, especially with the director's ex-girlfriend as his counterpart. He'd met her earlier and thought she was quite nice, although he'd ignored her comment about wearing jeans to an audition and the look on her face when he'd been singing.

Okay. So it was probably safe to say she was a bitch, especially given her behaviour towards Darren who seemed legitimately nice, and Chris didn't really believe anyone deserved to be cheated on.

Chris finally cleared his throat which made Darren jump slightly in his chair. "Right, well, I've got the time free to fit in with the schedule and will get started on the script as soon as I get back from my date tonight. Thank you for coming over to talk about it though. It really was…very nice of you."

Darren recognised the dismissal and gulped down the rest of his coffee. "Thanks. It was um, nice to meet you, and I guess we'll see you next week?"

He made his way to the front door and offered his hand.

They shook.

The jolt of electricity that travelled up Darren's arm was so surprising that he almost missed the blush that warmed the top of Chris' ears when he closed the door.

Chris had a girlfriend, so a shock of electricity and blushing notwithstanding, that was never going to happen. Good to know. If not a little disappointing.

Or a lot disappointing.

The script reading was intense. Darren was standing in front of everyone and trying to avoid the look Lydia was staring at him.

"Dirty Dancing was originally released in 1987 with Jennifer Grey as Frances Housman, otherwise known as Baby, and Patrick Swayze as Johnny Castle. Everyone has read the script, I presume?" The cast, gathered on all available surfaces – a bunch of chairs, the floor, a few of the tables pushed up against the walls – nodded at Darren's question. "Great. So today we'll do a read-through and once that's finished, designate the tasks behind the scenes."

The chairs scraped and chatter broke out while the cast arranged themselves in a circle.

"Maybe you should be sitting next to me, Chris," Lydia called out in Chris' general direction, not really looking at him because she was too busy trying to get Darren's attention, patting the seat next to her with a big, but emotionally absent, smile.

Chris raised an eyebrow and slipped into the seat politely. "Thank you, Lydia. That's a great idea considering how close we're going to be working over the next few months."

It was sort of clear that Chris knew nothing about what to do during a script readthrough, but he played along, delivering his lines when required and speaking to Lydia only when he had to. She was already grating on his nerves.

It was only the end of the first week of rehearsals and Chris was exhausted. He was incredibly prone to getting home, dropping his bag by the shoe-rack, hanging up his coat and walking to his room and probably face-planting on the bed. Why did everything have to get complicated? Why him? Why couldn't he just lay there and cry?

It felt like his life was spiralling out of control and Chris had had enough. Rehearsals were hard and long and irritating with Lydia and her constant correcting of everything he did wrong, and the amount of help he needed during the first sessions of choreography and, oh yeah, Darren Criss checking him out at every fucking opportunity. He'd tried approaching Darren before he'd left but Darren had seemed extra-eager to leave the theatre, hopping into the passenger side of Harry's car with a vague wave and an "everything's cool. " Chris wasn't so convinced but he didn't want to embarrass Darren and he had enough problems working beside Lydia without adding her ex-boyfriend to her list of reasons to resent him.

He had a girlfriend, for fucks sake. Couldn't everyone just leave him alone?

And Melody was perfect.

The perfect, role-playing girlfriend, that is.

And her girlfriend was great too.

They only had to go out and 'be seen' occasionally on the weekends and it covered both of their butts in that tiny town.

But Darren was complicating everything.

He'd spoken to Darren about Melody, watching Darren's face sag and his mannerisms change strangely.

"What are you doing on the weekend, Chris? I thought that maybe we could grab a drink or something?" His face had that massive smile he wore around Chris, especially when Lydia wasn't present in the same area. Was it talking to Chris or was it because Lydia wasn't there?

"I-I have a girlfriend, Darren. We've got plans this weekend," Chris said with a grimace. "Otherwise I would have loved to get a drink with you. Could we take a raincheck on that?"

"O-oh yeah! No worries. You should totally bring her to the cast party! It's coming up soon and I'd love to meet her." It was a lie. Darren didn't want to meet her. It was crystal clear even to Chris that Darren didn't want to do that. So why was he lying to himself, and to Chris? It just didn't make sense and it made his head hurt with all the second-guessing.

Lydia came back, and the moment passed as if it had never happened, Darren sliding back into the role of director and barely paying any extra attention to Chris.

Weekend choreography warm-ups with Harry were done to Maroon 5 and that day was no exception. Harder To Breathe was blasting out of the sound system in a corner of the room as the approximate cast of twenty did the warm up, whether they were participating in the actual choreography that morning or not. It was a great way to start the day, sweaty and dancing and just getting some good exercise.

They began slowly, Harry taking the cast gradually through the intricate footwork, arm stretches and stomach strengthening.

Darren always participated, joined in on the warm-ups, his shorts, t-shirt and bare feet contrasting with Chris' long sweatpants, tank top and sneakers. The standing positions during warm-ups tended to alternate in position each week. Today, Chris was in the front row with Darren behind him and off to one side.

Which did absolutely nothing for Darren's attention span. Or mind. Or memories. Or fantasies. Or anything at all that involved a clean, sanitised mind regarding the lead male in his production. Nothing at all.

After Harry declared their bodies warmed up and they took a few moments to catch their breath and rehydrate, they moved onto the vocal warm-ups that Darren usually led from the piano, with Chris and Lydia off to one side and together so they could hear and correct their harmonies.

The tension between Lydia, Darren and Chris was still clear, even a couple of weeks on. Josh had stopped showing up to the studio, leaving Harry and Darren to co-ordinate everything and frankly, Darren barely noticed his absence anymore because he was just so grateful he didn't have to face him.

They ran through various songs for a few hours, stopping to break for lunch. Exhausted, cast members draped over the furniture or floor at whim, too tired to even care about retrieving sandwiches to eat.

Darren and Chris had taken to sitting together during lunch, out of the main room and away from Lydia's steely gaze.

Chris unpacked his lunch and put it on the floor in front of him. "So, things don't seem to be improving with Lydia much... Have you had any opportunities to move your stuff out in the past few days since the last rehearsal?"

Darren let out a scoffing noise. "Pssh, God no. Where would I put it? But I know I can't stay with Harry forever either. I need to make time to find a new place but with the production and picking up Josh's slack, I barely find time to wash my clothes. Which has to be frequent because most of them are still in my closet at my former home."

Chris picked at his sandwich, looking distinctly unimpressed. The tomato juices had soaked into the bread and just…gross. "If you're having troubles finding somewhere to live, why don't you come and stay with me? I mean..." He blushed and dropped his gaze to the soggy sandwich in his lap. Suddenly it seemed like a really, really bad idea and he wished he'd thought about it before opening his mouth. "My aunt's gone for at least a few more months. If you need to get out of Harry's that badly then I've got a spare room. But...you know, it's up to you. The offer is there. If you want it."

Darren mulled it over for an uncomfortably long time, chewing his lip until it was so swollen that Chris had to look away to stop his thoughts drifting. "That would be great, but it's probably an unprofessional decision. I mean, Lydia would shit bricks and start crap with Harry about favoritism or something. She actually approached me and asked if I wanted to try and sort things out last week. Can you even believe that? Like, does she think I'm a glutton for punishment or something? I was so angry I could have hit her." Darren ran a hand through his hair and messed the curls up even more.

The fact of the matter was that the company often came first, and it made 'proper' employment hard for Darren and Harry running it, because holding down jobs could conflict with the vested interest they put in running the shows. Moving in with Chris would be a sudden decision but it would free up his time and thoughts long enough to keep this particular show together until he had more time to look for a proper place to live on his own on a permanent, long-term basis.

"Well, do you want to get back together with her?" Chris asked. "I mean, sure, she hurt you but you've still got all your stuff there and I take it you didn't give her much reason to think you wouldn't maybe try to sort things out..."

"What? No!" Darren looked thoroughly affronted. "I can hardly stand to look at her now. All I can see is her and Josh and it's disgusting really." Darren frowned and sighed. "If we… lived together, are you sure that wouldn't be weird for you? And would your girlfriend mind? I'm sure you like having the house to yourself."

"I wouldn't offer if either of us had a problem with it. Actually, it'd be kind of nice to have someone there. It's a big house."

"Okay, well...um...I'll have a talk with Harry and give you a call tonight. If you like? If that works?" Darren had kind of already decided that any excuse to spend more time with Chris had to be a good thing. It just seemed more professional to at least sound like he was trying to cover all his bases first.

Chris wasn't even sure what had prompted his spur of the moment offer but whatever it was, there was no reason to withdraw it. He should have thought through what that would mean for his privacy and for the giant elephant that existed around the tension, crackling between them as a result of various feelings.

But he also hadn't been lying. The house was more than big enough for the both of them and his intention of getting involved with the theatre group as a way of making new friends was working. There was nothing really left for Chris but to call his aunt and check that it was okay.

And for Darren to agree to it.

Which didn't seem that unlikely.

Darren spoke to Harry about the pros and cons of moving in with Chris, only to be encouraged to go for it, so he eventually called Chris to accept his offer. They set the moving day for the following Sunday, a little bit of excitement underscoring the conversation.

Chris' aunt had been fine with Darren moving in when he'd asked her about it. She wasn't planning on coming back anytime soon and any friend of Chris' was welcome, so long as Chris felt they could be sufficiently trusted.

Sunday came before either of them properly grasped the gravity of their decision. Darren went early to Lydia's and packed up his belongings as quickly as possible while she stood and watched him silently, her expression somewhere between mournful and furious. Most of the larger furniture like his cupboards, desk and two bookshelves, which were crammed with old textbooks, would be stored at the theatre until he could find a place of his own.

Pulling up at Chris' to unload was very surreal. He'd only been there once and now he was going to be living there.

With Chris.

By the time they had finished unpacking, the sun was setting and they were both thoroughly exhausted. They decided on really basic spaghetti dish for dinner, a bottle of red wine split between them, and crashing onto the couch to watch a movie.

Watching the movie, Darren was hyper-aware of Chris sitting on the opposite end of the couch. He tried to pay attention to the movie, he really did, but who cared when there was a man just a few feet away who was just stunningly attractive and, in Darren's opinion, more handsome than the leading actor in the film?

But Chris had a girlfriend.

A girlfriend.

A girlfriend, goddammit.

Chris had his arm on the armrest and his head resting against it, occasionally emitting little sighs while his eyes were closed. With a sleepy grumble, he moved around trying to get more comfortable and apparently decided that leaning on Darren and snuggling against his arm was the comfiest place to be.

Darren was frozen and his arm was stuck. He sat completely still, desperately trying not to breathe the scent of Chris' hair too much. Thankfully, Chris eventually began wiggling around again, enough that Darren was able to free his arm and wrap it around Chris' shoulders instead. Having had enough, Darren turned his head to breathe in the smell of Chris' hair, the musky smell making him a little dizzy with an emotion he didn't want to name. SIghing, he tilted his head back to rest against the back of the couch.

Warm breath tickled the back of Chris' neck and he leaned into it. The lips moved along his throat, lingering for a while against the soft skin just behind his ear. When their lips finally touched, it was like a fire had been set loose in his veins, sparks of electricity spreading down to his toes and his neck craned for better access, more access. The kiss deepened, tongues struggling and breathing heavy. They pressed deeper into the couch, hands roaming across his back and sweeping under the waist of his jeans. The warmth felt so good with the pressure grinding into his-

"Darren," he moaned out, breath hitching.

Aaaaaand he was awake.

Darren was staring at him, eyes wide and a look of pure shock on his face.

Oh fuck.

Blush blazing across his face, Chris scrambled to get up without making eye contact and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him and leaving Darren to contemplate what the hell had just happened.

Chris had been asleep. In his arms. And moaned his name. This was progress.

Darren was feeling pretty good about it actually, except for the abrupt exit and the cold shoulder. It had been a decidedly good night.

Chris had said his name. No, moaned his name.

Oh yes. Definitely a good night.

Chris was mortified.

What the hell was that? He was hard in his pants and blushing ferociously. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not after Bradley and certainly not with Darren. Why had he fallen asleep? Damn it, why couldn't this just be simple?

He could live with the guy, sure, fine, whatever. But he couldn't do that to himself. He couldn't fall for Darren.

But it had been so long since he'd let himself be held, so long since he'd had arms wrapped around him and warmth behind him on the couch...

Maybe if they just kept it casual...?

NO.

Chris had to go and face him, explain that he'd just been dreaming and that he wasn't ready to pursue any kind of…well, anything really.

He couldn't do that again.

They had to talk, preferably before hitting the theatre tomorrow afternoon, or it would be all kinds of awkward.

Darren sat at the breakfast bar and waited until he heard the shower turn off and movement behind the door. Chris eventually opened it and came out dressed and ready to leave for his day.

"Chris, we should talk," he said quickly when he saw Chris freeze and start looking for an escape out of the conversation. "This doesn't need to be a thing." Darren paused and bit his lip nervously. "Or it could be. If you want. But you should probably talk to Melody about that."

Chris shook his head and looked at his feet, "I can't do this, whatever this is, Darren. You're the director. You've just come out of a long relationship and I came here to learn what I'm looking for out of life." Chris felt tears sting at his eyes as he looked away from Darren's face. This was not how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be easy to say no. He'd never factored in the look on Darren's face.

Darren hopped off the stool by the breakfast bar and tried to look into Chris' eyes. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, but I like spending time with you." He placed his palm on Chris' cheek, gently easing his cheek up and placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Chris? What's going on? Is this Darren? I thought you said you were just friends!"

No hint of humour, no sign that the new voice was joking.

Darren nearly jumped a foot in the air as his head screamed alarm bells. Holy fuck! That was Chris' girlfriend. Where had she come from? He'd just done to her what Lydia and Josh had done to him and there was nothing he could say to Melody to apologise enough for what she'd just seen and why hadn't he thought of her before and God, he needed to get away.

"Chris, I-Im going to go. Melody, I'm so sorry. Please forgive Chris. We weren't doing anything. He was upset, so I, um, fuck. I've…I've got to go." Darren fled from the house, down the few steps, past the potted plants and to his car. He drove to the theatre in even more tears and wondered how he could have been so stupid after everything with Lydia.

"You didn't tell him, did you?" Melody asked, leaning up against the doorframe and looking at Chris' tear-stained face sadly. With a huff, she stepped forward to tug him to the couch and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "You didn't tell him that we weren't together like that, did you? He's thinks he's made you cheat on me and he's gutted." The look on Chris' face told her he hadn't and she sighed. "Chris, why didn't you set him straight? You could have gotten a word in just then to explain. Cut him off and forced him to listen. Why didn't you?"

Chris sniffed softly and curled into her shoulder. "Because Darren likes me a lot and I can't deal with that. Maybe this is what he needs, to give me some space?" Chris whispered.

"Chris, that's horrible." She prodded him hard in his shoulder and he grimaced. "I can't believe you would lie to someone who cares about you! You can see how much he likes you, and if it's just to keep up your barriers then maybe you need to do some thinking about that." She ran a hand through his hair and he cuddled closer. "I can understand why you want to keep your defences so high, and I can understand not being ready for a relationship, but that shouldn't be at the expense of hurting Darren." She shifted away just enough until she could tilt his head up and meet his eyes. "I'm breaking this fake dating thing off. I'll still be your friend when you need me, and you know where I am. But I won't be used as a reason to hurt someone, even if it's lying by omission. If you're not ready, you have to tell him that."

Chris wiped at his cheeks and sniffled. "But I was telling him. Or I was trying to You just came in, and you said your little line and now he's gone, Mel." He broke into sobs that made his heart hurt with the pain. "God, it's so much worse than that. Did I tell you he's living here because his girlfriend cheated on him a few weeks ago and they broke up over it?" He shouldn't have said anything. Melody looked so fiercely disappointed. "Now he probably thinks that he's gone and done the same thing to you. Oh God," he groaned through his tears, scrubbing at his cheeks.

Melody frowned and cradled his face gently. "Then you need to go and talk to him honey, and explain that that's not how we are and that he hasn'tscrewed up. Mainly you need to look at yourself. If you need to be held, then let him hold you." Her hands slipped down to shoulders, around to the back of his neck, gripping his neck and making sure he got the message. "You're letting him live here, for fuck's sake. You like him. I'm not silly enough to suggest that you're in love with him but you like him, and if you like him then why don't you make something of it or at least be honest? Instead of hiding, just do it." Melody was clearly on a roll.

Chris shook his head and looked down at his lap. "I can't just 'make something of it', Melody. You know what happened with Bradley. That's not something that just goes away overnight. Having your heart ripped out…you can't just recover from it and get on with your life. It doesn't work like that. It hurts."

She shoved him lightly and he glanced up at her in annoyance. "What makes you think letting no one else in is going to stop that hurt? Do you want to be alone forever? Are you going to deny every person who crosses your life with genuine interest because you're too scared? You're too young to become bitter and jaded and frightened of love. I'm not saying that you have to pursue this with him, but why don't you at least try? Just see where it goes. Who knows?"

Melody moved to stand, her hand resting on his shoulder. "You might find yourself happy, and maybe you'll want more. Maybe you'll realise it won't work. You don't have to fall in love, or let your guard down, but if you don't try at some stage, you'll become miserable and lonely. I don't want that for you, Chris. You deserve so much more." She paused for a moment. "Please don't let Bradley be the reason you never love again. I might not have known him, but I'd know he wouldn't want you to be alone the rest of your life."

With a quick kiss to his cheek, she left. Another person walking out of Chris' life. Once again, he was alone.

He called in sick to work that day. The little grocery shop could do without him for the day, but rehearsals still started at five. To face that would be another matter entirely. And even if he called sick to that, he knew Darren would know why he was really avoiding the rehearsal. And he knew Darren would eventually come back to the house and beat Chris' door down until he let him in. He could avoid leaving the house for a few hours, but he couldn't avoid Darren.

Suddenly he felt himself cursing the fact Darren had only moved in yesterday and wondered if it was too late to rescind the offer.

Nearly everyone had regular jobs so the theatre was empty first thing in the morning. Darren unlocked the door and went to make himself a coffee in the little kitchenette. Harry would be in at some stage according to the schedule they'd set up, although Josh hadn't showed up since the first read-through almost three weeks ago so the schedule was sort of pointless anyway. As far as he was aware, no one had seen him and Darren wasn't about to ask Lydia.

It had been a while since he's been alone in there, and shit, it had been an God-awful morning. He shouldn't have done that. He should have thought about it more. Instead of caving into his inherent need to wrap Chris up in his arms and give him the world, he should have known it was a bad, bad, bad idea and stayed away.

It'd only been a few weeks since Lydia had hurt him. Why now? Why did it feel like he had to be with him right now? His thoughts were going around and around in circles. He shuffled across the dark stage and sat at the keyboard. There was some sheet music in front of him, music he'd played a thousand times and listened to Chris sing.

His hands drifted over the keys, setting up the rhythm and slowing it down to his own tempo. The song was oddly fitting.

I've been meaning to tell you

I've got this feelin' that won't subside

I look at you and I fantasise

Darlin' tonight

Now I've got you in my sights

Chris pulled up outside the studio. He had been right in his guess at where Darren had gone. Darren's car was sitting in its usual spot right in front of the front door, although it was rather crookedly parked which probably meant he had been distressed when driving and Chris hated that he'd hurt Darren like that. He got out of the car and shoved the keys into his pockets, quietly letting himself in and wandering around, searching for signs of Darren.

There was music coming from the stage. Walking through the side door, he eased it closed and stood in the wings, listening to Darren sing beautifully and adjusting the pace of the song, his fingers drifting over the key with practiced ease.

With these hungry eyes

One look at you and I can't disguise

I've got hungry eyes

I feel the magic between you and I

I want to hold you so hear me out

I want to show you what love's all about

Darlin' tonight

Now I've got you in my sights

He stood captivated, holding his breath as the lyrics drifted over him, the emotions put into the song wrapping around him like a warm blanket. Melody had a point. He did like Darren. A lot. But his carefully constructed walls weren't easily taken down and the fact remained that Darren had been through his own heartbreak only a few weeks ago. It was too much too soon to everyone.

Not to mention that theatre groups had that problem with familiarity. Chris had been hearing about it from a few of the other performers. When you spent so much time with a person, you could develop feelings for them. Could that be a part of it? He saw Darren at rehearsals and now at home. Was it worth the risk if it didn't work out?

With these hungry eyes

One look at you and I can't disguise

I've got hungry eyes

I feel the magic between you and I

The song could have been written for them, but the tone was off somehow.

Now I've got you in my sights

With these hungry eyes

Now did I take you by surprise

I need you to see

This love was meant to be

Chris was clapping before he remembered that Darren didn't know he was there. Darren jumped in surprise, his face falling when he saw who it was and his eyes falling to the floor.

"Chris, I'm so sorry. I didn't think about what I was doing and I didn't expect Melody to have a key and show up but of course she would because she's your girlfriend and I really shouldn't have kissed you and I know I shouldn't have touched you like that and I'm just really sorry if I've caused any trouble and I'll apologise to Melody and explain that it was entirely my fault if she'll let me just please know I'm so sorry and I'm just...I'm so sorry," he whispered the final part, his voice catching and strangling in obvious pain.

Chris stepped onto the stage slowly and cautiously, feeling increasingly awful at how misled Darren had been. "Darren, it's okay. Really." Chris sighed, "Melody and I...We're just friends. We've been 'dating' but that was more of a…presumption by the people that saw us than an actual relationship, which we actively encouraged."

Darren looked scared, shaken and dubious. "So, you guys were what? Fake dating? Why would you do that?"

Chris smiled sadly as he sighed. "We've been friends a while, since just after I moved here. She was buying groceries and we just really hit it off so we decided to hang out. We were seen together a lot and people just..." Chris shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets so he didn't fidget with them. "I don't know. They decided we were dating or something. Melody...she...she has a girlfriend though. Jenna. Melody's no where near ready to come out and she still lives with her parents, so half the time that Melody tells them she's with me, she's not. In fact, they're probably wondering why we haven't moved in together yet with the amount of time 'we' spend together." Chris wiggled his fingers for the emphasis he put on the 'we'.

For a moment, time slowed down. Darren hadn't known that. Chris knew that he had thought Chris and Melody had been in a real relationship. Should he be upset? Or offended? Or something? Did that mean that Chris felt the same way or that he was hiding something more sinister? Or just what the fuck?

"So you're her beard?" Darren still looked doubtful, his nose wrinkling at the word. "I know of the term, but I didn't think people really did it anymore. So she wasn't pissed this morning?"

"Yes to the beard, no to the pissed." Chris paused and shook his head. "Well, sort of. She was pissed but at me,not you and she said if I didn't come and tell you what was really going on straight away, it would probably hurt the production we've all been putting a lot of effort into."

"So, what you're saying is that you came to apologise because your pretend-girlfriend thinks you have feelings for me?"

Bastard.

"No. I...I came because I didn't want to make things awkward while we work together. And that is the only relationship I'm interested in." Chris looked away and turned to walk out. He'd done his bit and explained the not-thing with Melody. That was all he was comfortable doing.

"Why though?" Darren called after him. "Why is that the only relationship you would be interested in? You must have noticed that I l-like you." Darren's cheeks went pink as he said the last part, not sure of what it meant or where it would go, but knowing that it was impossible to deny any longer.

"Darren, you might like me and I can't ask you to stop. But I...I'm not interested in a relationship. I don't intend to be here forever. I want to go to school in the fall or maybe move to LA, and I don't want to get tied down. I'm too young to settle into anything too serious and I can't deal with that kind of heartbreak. I just can't." Chris walked to the side door, his fingers tracing the grain of the wood as his heart felt like it was shredding in his chest. "I'll be back later for rehearsal."

Darren watched him go before flopping over the keyboard with a loud jangle. He thought back over the conversation and found himself smiling.

Because at no point did Chris directly say he wasn't attracted to him.

It was a small thing, but he'd definitely take it.

The next week passed in a blur of activity, with Chris studiously avoiding Darren when they were both at home. Rehearsals were going strong and most people were off scripts now, the occasional workaholic too busy to have gotten all the lines and moves down. Today, Chris was learning how to grind on Lydia. And it wasn't going well.

"No, Chis. It's dirty dancing. You have to grind into her like you want to show her how big you are," Harry said while demonstrating, pulling Lydia up to him and moving their hips together obscenely.

"I know how to dirty dance Harry, but she's not making it any easier by glaring at me." 'She' was standing next to Harry, still pointedly glaring at him. She'd been icy to him all day and frankly, he hadn't done anything to deserve it.

"I don't know why Darren gave the part to you anyway," Lydia hissed under her breath when Harry moved away to start the music over.

"Excuse me? Why now, Lydia? Why would you start complaining about me four weeks into rehearsals? You've had ample complaint time and we've only got a couple of weeks left before we have to perform this like we mean it. Where is your goddamn professionalism?"

The slap echoed around the room as the ensemble members who had been milling around gaped at the exchange.

"Fuck you, Christopher! I've seen the way he looks at you and I'm not stupid!" She shrieked as she stormed towards the exit. "You only got the damn part because you're fucking the director!"

"How fucking dare you!" He shouted in return as he ran after her into the parking lot, ignoring Harry's yell to calm down and come back, ignoring the looks around him, ignoring the guilt gnawing at his heart that he was about to be out of line but he didn't care because he had a few things this bitch needed to know. "Maybe he turned to me because you were too busy fucking his best friend!"

"Chris? Lydia?" Darren was standing next to his car, his eyes wide and his hand hovering above the hood of his car. "That might not the best thing to scream across the parking lot. Office, now. We need to talk."

Chris got to Darren first and leaned into his ear as they walked into the office. "That didn't mean anything, you know. She slapped me, so I was verbally slapping her back because even though she's a bitch, she's still a female and I know I shouldn't hit her."

Darren held back the smile that was threatening to burst across his face. He didn't hate Lydia per se, she just…knew how to get a rise out of him. Chris defending him felt like a little bit of payback. And victory. You wouldn't defend someone you didn't at least like, right?

"Right. Lydia, Chris, will you be able to work together or not? Because you play a young couple in love and while I'm well aware of the issues we clearly have among the production right now, a screaming argument is really not going to help the team attitude. We need to work together on this and if you're not going to give it 100%, I'm going to have to find people that will."

This was the hard part of relationships with cast members. Sometimes you had to see them after bitter breakups and sometimes you had to tell them things they didn't want to hear just to maintain the integrity of the show.

Lydia spoke up first, of course. "Darren, I know we haven't exactly been getting along but think about the performance. If you pull one of us now, you would have to train someone up in just a few weeks. We can work together," she looked at Chris, her smile sugary sweet and yet vaguely threatening, "can't we?"

Chris arched an eyebrow. "I'm not the one who has been glaring since we met. I'd like to remind you that you just slapped me and accused me of fucking the director to get the part. And you know what? You aren't entitled to it because it's a male part and you're female, so I don't even see why you'd have a problem with it, unless it's me. Is my voice too girly for you, or is it because of Darren? Because I don't care much about my own reputation, I'll get out of here soon enough, but for a moment can you just stop and think about Darren? You could ruin his reputation and that just makes you a selfish bitch, Lydia!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay, relax," Darren intervened, shoving the two apart and snatching his hand back from Lydia's shoulder as if it burned. "This will never work with you two pretending like you get along when really you don't like each other. Maybe we should sit down and talk,actually talk, Lydia, because we never discussed that day and I'd just love an explanation." Darren took a seat behind the desk and stared at Lydia. "Chris, when I get home we'll have a chat too, okay?"

Chris nodded nervously and cast a final, bitter look at Lydia. He felt simultaneously anxious and tired, hoping Darren would be okay with her.How dare she insinuate that he'd only gotten the part because he was sleeping with Darren? They hadn't even known each other before the auditions! God, some people.

The door clicked shut and Darren turned his attention back to his stupidly spiteful ex. He should have known she'd be like this. "Yeah, I harbour some serious resentment towards you for your treatment of me, but I know it's a conversation that we should have had a month ago so go along and speak now and explain yourself to me."

"Darren, you have to understand!" she pleaded, leaning forward in her chair and trying to grab at his hand which he pulled back from her. She covered her momentary sneer with a pout and sat back in her chair again. "You left me feeling like I was unattractive and unwanted. You never started anything with us! You just let me take the lead on every physical part of our relationship and I just wanted to feel wanted! And Josh gave me that. He told me how beautiful I was and showed me how much he wanted to be with me and you-."

"You're kidding me, right?" Darren interrupted. "You were the one who set boundaries on us! The times, the places, the ways I could show affection and try to love you! Do you know how those made me feel? Do you know how much of this could have been avoided if you were willing to just sit down and have a conversation with me? And for you to just take it out on Chris? In front of the entire company? God, Lydia. Act mature for a change! He's got nothing to do with us or what went on between us before our anniversary!"

"Why are you so quick to defend him, Darren?" she snapped. "Stop answering my questions with more questions. I want answers." She pursed her lips and a fire of fury glimmered in her eyes. "Are you sleeping with him yet? Because it's quite noticeable how much you fawn all over him during rehearsals and it's sick. One rejection and you just run after the first person who might want you. Is he a nice little rebound fuck?"

Darren's tenuous hold on his temper broke. He stood so suddenly his chair toppled to the ground with a thud. "Get out!"

"Why? You think you can replace me?" Finally her mask was coming off and she was sneering openly at him. "Good luck trying, Darren. There isn't a single person associated with this company that could pull off learning this role in under three weeks. Not to mention I have friends here. You can't remove me from your life even if you wanted to and you don't want to. Take me back and do the lead with me like you were going to do if Chris had never auditioned."

"You're wrong, Lydia," he said firmly, a smug look slipping onto his lips because now he had something to hold over her. "I didn't want the part .No one did. Josh, Harry and I discussed at length which of us would like to work the play opposite you and in truth, we decided none of us wanted to have to go through that. That's why we held open auditions. I wanted to direct for a change and I'm good at directing. And your little bit on the side?" His lip curled into a grin. "He was flat-out, not interested in being in the spotlight with you. You want to get nasty? You want to say things just to hurt me? Well here's some harsh truth, sweetheart," he said, and somewhere the vindictiveness in him loved the way her smirk was slowly disappearing from her face. "Josh, who got to know you so intimately while we were together, was not interested in working with you. We all know you, Lyd. We know how much you want things your own way and we can't stand working with you. So you can't possibly be jealous of the friendship I have with Chris when you had sex with one of my best friends, in our house, on our bed, on our anniversary. You didn't try to talk to me, or explain yourself. I got nothing. The end of us was you being unfaithful and I would never take you back after that."

"You're blowing this way out of proportion!" she yelled, her cheeks turning pink with rage. "It was just a fuck and it only happened a few times! It didn't mean anything. God, Darren."

"It happened more than once?" His voice cracked on the last word. She hadn't just been with him once. Oh God. It had been going on for a while and he hadn't noticed. His worst fears were confirmed and she'd been sleeping with someone else. And neither she nor Josh had the gall to tell him. He felt sick.

Lydia had the decency to look at least a little ashamed. "We weren't going anywhere, Darren. We haven't in a long time. I'm sorry you didn't realise that sooner. We didn't talk about all of our problems before this happened and I just started to feel so trapped." She was back-peddling, pulling her best devastated and confused look at him. "You can't stop me from having a part in this production, just like you can't make me leave our friends and life here." Lydia's voice had taken on a soft and calm quality. "But we could try to be friends. Hell, we could even try making 'us' work again if you would be willing. I'd like that."

Darren snorted and shook his head with a wry smile. "Even if it were possible to delete the image of you and Josh ingrained in my head, you are still an impossible person to work with and I'd rather use this as an excuse for you to get out and not come back to this company."

"And so what? You and Chris are just...?" She was spluttering out the words and holding her chest like she'd been mortally wounded and being ever so melodramatic that he wanted to smack her over the head.

"I want to try the show with him. I want to get to know him better. I don't know where it'll go and I neither care, nor is it any of your damn business anymore. So you see all of this," he gestured to the air between them, "it's over. I don't have to be treated like your damned plaything anymore."

He felt a surge of victory at the shattered look on her face and realising he was finally, finally getting free of her. "Oh, and you were wrong in your statement earlier. I'm the director here so I can remove you from the cast. And since I think you're unsuitable to be working as a part of this team, I've decided I'll find someone to replace you."

She gaped at him and with an exasperated yell, stormed out of the room and slammed the main doors shut behind her.

As the adrenaline thrumming through his veins started to slow down, he corrected his chair and sank into it. Oh God, what had he done? How would explain this to Harry, to Chris, to everyone? If he couldn't find someone willing to step up into the role and learn it fast they were going to have to call the whole thing off, and it would be his fault.

Chris was doing dishes. It was the most domestic, menial and thoroughly unexpected (though he wasn't sure why) task Darren had ever seen Chris do.

Chris barely paused in his rinsing of a glass "Hi. Did you sort things out with Lydia?" Chris' voice was tight with nerves.

Darren snorted as he climbed onto the stool. "Nope. I fired her and then rubbed it in her face that we were dating so she would stop trying to get me to forgive her."

"You did what now?"

Darren sighed. "Look...I know I shouldn't have said that, especially about you. Not that I would object to dating you because I think you're awesome." He put his face in his hands. "Can I start over?"

Chris removed his gloves and dropped them beside the sink. "Please do."

"Chris, I have feelings for you." Fuck. He wasn't supposed to say that either. Darren sat and thumped his head into the counter as the emotions started to swallow him and the sudden rush of tears were too strong to hold back. "That wasn't it either. Jesus, I fucked it all up, Chris. Everything's ruined! I can't do anything right ever and I just don't know how to fix it!"

Chris leaned against the counter looking nervous. "We can't do this Darren. I can't do this," he added meekly. "If for no other reason than because we're currently working together and if something goes really wrong, then it's going to be really bad. This play is really important to me, to both of us. And now we live together and we just...we can't do this." He shook his head and walked to his room, closing the door softly before throwing himself at the bed and burying his face under the pillow, trying to block everything out for as long as he possibly could because maybe then it would hurt less.

There was a knock on the door. He lifted his head long enough to yell, "Darren, I don't want to talk about this right now, can't you just let it be?" before the door opened and closed and Melody sank onto the bed beside him, tugging the pillow away from his head.

"I was over at Jenna's and thought I might stop by and try to apologise for my rant earlier, but now doesn't seem like a good time. Would you prefer I left or do you want to discuss what new developments have left you trying to suffocate yourself with a pillow while yelling through the door?"

"He likes me, Melody. Like likes me. I just…I'm not ready for all that stuff. You made your feelings on the matter clear, but I'm so confused! How can I work with him, live with him and deal with the all the feelings that comes with it?" Chris rolled over and buried his face into the mattress in frustration. "People aren't supposed to date when they're performing together! It's too easy to rip a cast apart with all the barely-repressed tension. It's already happening for fuck's sake! Lydia just got fired from the show because she had a go at me for having sex with Darren!"

"Wait! You had sex with Darren?" She smiled like the damn Grinch on Christmas.

"NO! But she assumed it and caused a big scene in front of the cast! Now she's gone and we've got no lead female and no one ready to take up the part at a moment's notice and there's a stupid cast party this weekend and oh my God, it's going to be so horrendous. How am I meant to face them?."

"I wish I could help honey," Melody leant over and gave him a hug, "but this is out of my control."

"Thanks Mel. I'm glad things aren't weird between us. You know, since you dumped me and all." They exchanged mutual small smiles. "What do I do about Darren?"

"Well, my suggestion would be that you go out there, apologise for being an idiot and get some." She winked, her grin huge

"Mel! What part of 'not ready' and 'can't date someone on a production team' don't you understand?"

"I didn't say anything about dating," she giggled, darting away before he could say anything further. She always managed to get the last word. No matter how much Chris tried to argue, Melody just had the knack for a perfect exit.

The cast party was that weekend and Chris had been avoiding Darren like the plague. It wasn't necessarily that he had planned to only speak in a few muttered words or sentences in passing as opposed to the never-ending stream of conversation between them, he was still just struggling to meet Darren's eye or admit to anything, so it was easier to stay out of his way and find excuses not to be around.

As the party approached though, he was becoming increasingly nervous. What did one do at cast parties? Was the aim just to sit around and get drunk? Would it mean standing around near a wall trying to make idle conversation? Would Lydia still be going? Melody had refused to accompany him so he had no buffer between himself and the rest of the cast. Perhaps most importantly, where the bloody hell was Darren? As far as Chris was aware, he hadn't been home since he'd driven off at nine this morning and Chris had thought they'd be going together, but since it was almost time to leave and Darren still hadn't turned up, maybe he'd have to go alone. Which would alert the entire cast to a developing rift and just be really, really awkward.

His phone beeped and his stomach somersaulted at seeing Darren's name flashing across his screen.

'I'm going to the party straight from the studio. Will I see you there?'

Chris was beginning to suspect Darren knew him a lot better than Chris gave him credit for. He swallowed nervously and replied with a yes, chewing his lip as he added a tiny bit more gel to try to tame his hair down. He glanced at his reflection, satisfied that the black jeans and blue button-down was sophisticated enough to be an adult outfit, without being overly formal. The last thing he wanted to do was be under or overdressed and stand out looking like a naive idiot who didn't know what to wear to cast parties.

He left the house and slowly made his way to Harry's, more aware of the butterflies becoming active in his stomach the closer the GPS told him he was getting. He really wasn't a social person, especially in large groups of theatrical people. In the past, he'd found them to be loud, often crude and frequently obnoxious, which meant that his quiet assessments often disappeared into the background of conversations until the point that he stopped talking. It was why he much preferred smaller groups of closer friends, or why he ate lunch so often with Darren, because Darren took the time to listen and was genuinely interested. Everyone else just sort of...clashed over one another. But as far as he was aware, everyone from the cast and crew were making an appearance and as the lead male, he was sort of forced into making an appearance. It also meant that technically, Lydia may still turn up, which made him sick with an anxiety so strong it bordered on fear and panic. Again he cursed Melody for not accompanying him, and for Darren's decision not to return home. He wondered how quietly he could enter Harry's and how soon he could find a dark corner so he could say he was there, but no one noticed him. The rest of the cast and ensemble were nice enough in the brief conversations he'd had with them but their attention frequently drifted and topics changed rapidly and it just wasn't Chris' definition of fun and really he'd just rather be avoiding it.

When he arrived, things were a mess.

He barely had time to think much about that though because as soon as he entered, there were people and drinks everywhere. Someone pushed a drink into his hand and told him to "get started catching up." He hadn't thought he was late and he wasn't especially interested in drinking either. He briefly contemplated not drinking because it was illegal for someone his age anyway, but then started thinking that it might be nice to just relax and try to forget the events of the last few days and weeks wash away from the forefront of his mind so he could properly relax. But he was kidding himself because when he boiled his problems down, it wasn't even the last few weeks that had been a problem. In the grand scheme of things, anything thrown at him recently had been nothing like the awful crap he'd had to deal with back at home: his family; school; the judgemental assholes around him; Bradley.

He glanced down dubiously at the cup in his hand, hoping it hadn't been spiked. With a shrug, he brought it to his lips and swallowed down a mouthful, choking a little as the bourbon burning his throat on the way down. Apparently whoever had mixed this was aiming for complete blackout-drunk, because it must have been half/half and his eyes were watering.

From what he could see, Darren didn't look to have arrived but he could see a group outside gathered around a bonfire in the backyard, with another smaller group inside standing around yelling at each other to do shots.

The music was pumping, a strange mix of 90s hits and more recent dance beats. Harry's love for Maroon 5 seemed to exist beyond the studio as there were several songs he recognised from warm-ups or the radio. Whenever the music slowed down, someone would hit the next track button and the beat would speed up again, the bass vibrating through his feet and making his heart thump in his chest.

When Darren finally arrived and walked in, Moves like Jagger was playing loudly and his eyes automatically began searching for Chris. Mentally, he told himself it was to make sure Chris was there and had arrived safely, but emotionally...emotionally he didn't want to think about it.

Eventually he spotted the back of Chris' hair amongst a group that had apparently made themselves comfortable doing rowdy shots and playing drinking games in the living room, the coffee table a scattered mess of empty cups and glasses and various bottles of spirits.

As he got closer, Darren realised he had never seen Chris like this. He was terribly flushed, the alcohol doing wonders for his bright blue eyes which were clearly shimmering and glittering from across the room. When Chris laughed brightly, too brightly, Darren frowned and wondered who the hell had been giving him that much booze. Hadn't they known he was underage? But Darren couldn't deny that the red, sweaty flush of his cheeks was terribly appealing and he would gladly just sit and stare at the happiness Chris was displaying.

"Darren!" Dammit. Spotted. Time to stop skulking in the doorway. "You got a lotta catchin' up to do, boy! Sue! Shots for D!"

As far as Darren was concerned, the closer he got to Chris the more he was enthralled by his appearance. Apparently the Chris who was excited, happy and overly drunk was just as fun to Darren as the more observant, quiet, nerdy Chris that Darren saw at home. Encouraged by those around him, he found he'd rapidly consumed six shots of various alcoholic types and content and was being dragged back to his feet to dance with Sue. He was having a ball, although his eyes invariably kept straying back to Chris, the endless stream of bass filling the room and the low lights allowing for everything to become somehow louder and more fun as everyone's inhibitions lowered under the influence of alcohol and disappearing in the darkness.

It didn't take long for sweat to start pouring down Darren's spine as he ground into Sue in time with Good Luck which was blaring out of the sound system in the corner. Chris had appeared behind him at some stage and was dancing with Gabby and, God, Darren could feel Chris' hips moving in time. Why the hell was this guy getting gyrating lessons from Harry? He sure as hell didn't need it.

Sue caught his attention, latching onto Darren's arm and pulling him close, turning so she could grind her back against his chest. Put off a little and aching to be closer, closer, closer to Chris, he persuaded her to shift until he was eventually facing Chris. Much better. Sue moved to dance closer with Gabby, the girls giggling and slinging arms over hips and shoulders effortlessly as Darren groped at Chris' hips to hold him close. This was even better. He could see Chris' eyes in the dim light, pupils huge and forehead slightly creased in adorably drunken confusion and this could probably turn into the world's worst, fully-dressed, cast party/orgy if they kept this up, but Darren was hot and sweaty, the white shirt beneath his button down sticking to his chest almost uncomfortably. His eyes were partially closed and his curls shone in the dim light as he moved in time with the music and Chris and his body hummed with all the sensations that just felt so, so good.

Why on Earth did Chris have to be so attractive? As far as Darren cared, it was completely unfair. When a slower song started up and no one moved to immediately change it, the group started to drift apart and catch up on breathing, but then the song shifted and they realised that the fatigue had caught up with them and they all needed a break.

Gabby draped her arm over Chris and Darren's shoulders, grinning evilly. "Seven minutes in heaven, guys? Who wants to go first?" Her gaze flickered between the small group as they sat down on the scattered chairs. "I'm angling for Darren and Sue first! All that action on the dance floor looked mighty hot indeed. I'm sure you would use that time wisely," Gabby winked, nudging Chris to gain his approval at the suggestion, but Sue interrupted Gabby's idea.

"I vote making it really interesting and picking Darren and Chris." There was a general murmur of agreement but Chris' mind was wiped, his face stunned, his nerves returning full-force.

Sue was practically bouncing on the spot, the bitch. Darren tried to gauge Chris' reaction, and couldn't help feeling that Chris looked to be panicking. No, stop, don't panic Chris, this could be fun. "What d'you say Chris?" he asked, leaning forward and trying not to feel like he was leering. "Wanna spend seven minutes in heaven with me? I could totally make it worth your while."

Chris' jaw dropped. Was he fucking serious? Come on Chris, you can do this. They're drunk, they won't even remember in the morning. "Well, Mister Criss, now I'm just hoping that you don't disappoint after that build up." He realised he sounded far more assured of himself than he felt but Darren was already grabbing his hand and Sue was shoving them in the direction of the small, spare bathroom.

The door closed behind them and Darren and Chris stood very still for less than thirty seconds. Chris turned around to mumble something about the level of awkward of them being in such a small space when Darren's lips crashed into his, attacking his mouth and pushing him into one of the walls.

Trying to capture some oxygen, Darren's lips slid to his jaw as Chris panted out, "Eager much?"

Darren just smiled and took that as acceptance, running his hands everywhere down to the band of Chris' jeans and untucking his shirt so he could run his warm hand under it and over the warm skin of Chris' stomach. "So fucking beautiful," Darren breathed against Chris' clavicle as he sucked a mark to where Chris' neck met his shoulder.

Darren wanted him, so badly. If this was any indication of what the barely repressed tension between them melted down to after a week of avoiding each other, then he was ready to explode into flames already. They had seven minutes. They were alone. Chris was fucking hot and he could barely stop his desperation at pawing at the skin beneath Chris' clothes. Too much fabric, got to get rid of it. Off, off, off.

Chris felt Darren's hands move down to his belt and had a moment of doubt, but the wet sucking on his collarbone felt so fucking amazing that his brain was slowly turning into overheated mush.

"Let me," Darren whispered, maintaining the warm press of his lips and fiddling with the button on Chris' jeans. The sudden removal of Darren's body pressed up against Chris was a shock as Darren dropped to his knees, a silent exchange passing between them because this was suddenly a whole lot more than seven minutes in heaven. This was more than just getting off. This was a decision, an allowance of more that Chris had panicked and fled from a week ago. Nervously, Chris nodded his head and felt more than saw Darren's excitement overpower his control as his movements became increasingly desperate.

Darren hooked his thumbs into the loops Chris' jeans, pulling them down to his ankles and the cold air making goosebumps erupt across his skin. The nerves were making his heart feel like it was hammering in his throat but he couldn't stop watching Darren, feeling transfixed and slightly detached as he struggled to swallow the excited saliva in his mouth and remember to inhale when his lungs started to burn for oxygen.

But really, his breathing just kept faltering as Darren's warm, wet lips followed his hands over Chris' hips, thighs and stomach, nipping and scraping his teeth over the skin, breathing in and exhaling warmly over the areas that he had lightly bit at. He left one final kiss on Chris' hip bone before moving lower, his mouth finally on Chris' very interested cock.

Chris let out a low moan, his fingers curling and digging into the tiled walls uncomfortably because Darren was way, way too good at this. He struggled to keep watching, his eyes hooded and dark as Darren's tongue darted out to lick stripes along the underside of Chris' cock before he licked along his own hand wetly, positioning it firmly at the base of Chris' erection and pumping loosely before returning his mouth to the leaking head.

Chris' coherency was utterly gone as Darren started sucking, wet heat and a coiling spring building in his lower stomach. One of his hands was clutching at Darren's curls, encouraging him closer, and Darren relaxed his jaw to let Chris thrust his hips lower and deeper and oh, oh. He whimpered as his orgasm hit him suddenly, sped up by the weeks of dancing around Darren's advances and the alcohol and oh God, Darren was swallowing every last drop down like a fucking champ.

He slipped bonelessly down the wall and looked at Darren in awe, his cheeks flushed and lips red and swollen and curls haphazard and basically looking thoroughly debauched and deliciously sinful. Darren climbed quickly into Chris' lap, pressing their lips together and urgently palming the achingly hard erection in his pants.

Chris batted his hand out of the way to set up a quick rhythm, leaving Darren writhing and moaning against his mouth, desperate for some relief from the pressure and desire and want and need and so many other emotions and thoughts his drunken mind couldn't hope to discern.

"Knock knock, time's up!" Sue called, and Darren whined as Chris shoved him away to fix up his pants and shirt before the door open, moving apart even though they both wanted so, so much more and Darren was nearly in agony.

It was easy enough to make their excuses and leave for the night. People noticed the carefully constructed poker-face expressions and obviously dishevelled clothes but were only brave enough to wiggle eyebrows and wink after Chris and Darren had already left, because while nothing was said directly to their faces, the whole cast was glad Darren was finally getting some after being clearly enamoured with Chris from day one of rehearsals.

Missoula was thankfully small, because they never would have made it home. Their cars had to be left on Harry's lawn without even a second thought because they were much, much too drunk to be driving and they were struggling to keep their hands off each other without committing some sort of act of drunken lewdness. They didn't talk much on the way home, kissing and grabbing at clothes as Darren clung to Chris' hand and urged him in the direction of home faster, faster, always faster.

Chris got to the door first, going through his pockets to find his keys and finally, finally getting them through the front door. Darren's mouth was on his before the door was even closed behind them, pushing Chris into the back of the door, the doorknob digging into his back painfully. Chris pressed his hands to Darren's chest, pushing just enough to make Darren disengage and stare at him curiously.

"Darren," Chris whimpered against his mouth, his eyes unable to stop shifting between Darren's eyes and his mouth, his warm breath ghosting over Darren's lips and smelling of tequila. "We should talk about this."

Darren fought against his natural urge to shake Chris' concerns off and instead to not, because the logical side of his brain that wasn't quite silent from the alcohol was still telling him that rushing into drunken sex was hardly what they needed. The situation was entirely complicated enough. Swallowing down his disappointment, he guided Chris over to the couch and sat with his legs crossed and trying to cover his annoyingly persistent erection with a cushion, looking expectantly at Chris who looked lost for words now that they were actually trying to communicate.

"I meant what I said earlier," Darren said finally, trepidation creeping into his voice as he tried not to alarm Chris and keep concise because he was drunk and his mouth ran away from him enough when he was sober. "I want to be with you. I never would have expected to find someone like you who would be interested in me so soon after the crap with Lydia but you are here and God, I want you. But I'm not going to force you either way. Whatever you say, I'll respect it, I promise." The rush of adrenaline and endorphins was starting to wear off and he was suddenly feeling really tired on the warm, incredibly comfortable couch.

"I don't know, Darren," Chris sighed. Right. Chris was talking. Pay attention. "I can't deny that what, um, happened before w-was great." His cheeks turned pink and his gaze dropped to his lap. "But I just…we really shouldn't develop whatever this is, while we're working together. It's unprofessional or something," Chris mumbled, shifting on the couch until his head was laying on Darren's shoulder.

Darren was warm, taking deep breaths and letting his head loll onto the armrest as his eyes slipped shut. "Why does it have to be about anything else though? Should be just whatever we want. Feelings shouldn't be so hard," he complained, his voice slurring as his exhaustion increased.

Chris giggled a bit at that, wriggling until they were laying down and his feet were stretched out and he was settled into the couch behind Darren. "That's not the only thing that's hard," he murmured.

Darren's breathing evened out, his arm draped over Chris' as Chris fell asleep moments later.

Chris' eyes cracked open. There was an absolutely disgusting patch of light shining onto his face. Bright light first thing in the morning after a night of drinking should be illegal. His tongue felt like sandpaper and tasted even less appealing. There was a heavy torso crushed into his side and his arm had a lack of circulation for what must have been hours, the painful, prickling feeling creeping up it as he tried to disentangle himself from Darren.

"Don't move. Too fucking early. Warm. Go back to sleep," Darren whined against his neck.

"I need water. I don't care what time it is, I need it," Chris complained back, managing to roll Darren onto his stomach but enough that Chris could stagger over him and stumble towards the kitchen.

"More sleep. Least five hours. Bring me water too?" Darren weakly called after him.

Rolling his eyes, Chris hobbled into the kitchen, his limbs stiff and sore from spending hours lying squished onto the couch.

"I'll get it, but I'm taking it to bed. You want it and my warmth, you'll meet me there."

Darren groaned loudly in unappreciation. "I don't know if I want the water that badly. Head is fucking pounding."

Chris drank the glass of water he'd filled up and immediately his mouth felt better, even though he was gasping for air. He desperately wanted to drink more except he knew he'd feel bloated and sloshy from drinking too much water too quickly, so he found two water bottles and grabbed a box of Tylenol from the cabinet before continuing to his bedroom.

The bed looked amazing. He sat on the edge and popped a couple of the tablets, swallowing them down with half the bottle of water. He fumbled with the blankets and wiggled under them, stretching out and incredibly appreciative of the space. He closed his eyes, sleep surrounding him rapidly until Darren practically threw himself onto the bed and yanked him from that almost-sleep state he'd found himself in.

"Darren," Chris snapped, kicking at Darren's body and cuddling the pillow closer.

"Pass me the bottle and Tylenol and I will stop hating you for making me move," Darren grunted. The effort of stretching to the bedside table and passing the bottle over his shoulder was pretty extreme with how utterly awful Chris felt, but Chris persisted, throwing the Tylenol weakly over his shoulder. "That was my nose, you dick."

"Quiet," Chris insisted, falling back to sleep within minutes.

Darren didn't sleep that fast. The pounding behind his eyes persisted and lying down with a stomach full of water left him feeling swooshy and miserable. He lay there, debating with himself whether it would really be worth the effort of standing up just to go to the bathroom and empty his stomach of any remaining alcohol.

In the end, he was left with little choice, his body rebelling and leaving him bolting for Chris' ensuite toilet. "Never...again," Darren promised himself between gasping breaths air. He'd said that to himself a few times over the last few years, but this time felt so, so much worse somehow.

He stumbled to his own bathroom, grabbing at his toothbrush and drinking more water before falling into the bed and curling into a ball around Chris before he finally fell back asleep.

Chris woke up sometime after midday, feeling utterly disgusting but luckily without the pounding in his head this time. Darren's warm body was wrapped around him, long sighing breaths tickling the hairs on the back of Chris' neck.

It felt good, really good, to be laying there in his arms. He didn't remember much from the night before. There were scattered memories of walking, maybe stopping to throw up at some stage, getting home and talking on the couch… There wasn't much after that, but he blearily remembered that morning and he could feel that he still was clothed. Which was good.

Wait.

He was maybe a bit too dressed for bed.

Still wearing his shoes apparently, in fact.

He kicked them off under the blankets until they quietly clunked to the floor, searching his memories from the night before. Party and drinks. He shouldn't have done that. He danced with Sue and Gabby, and there was some dancing and-

Oh fuck.

That had happened. Seven minutes in heaven. Which now felt more like seven minutes in hell the more he thought about it. It must have been painfully clear to the others what had happened in the bathroom and then they had left together, stumbling and holding hands. It was one thing that they were now living together but yeah, ultimately, they were done for. The speculation would kill them whether anything had happened or not. Which it had. Lydia would have seen that if she was there. Was she there? Scrap that, everyone would have seen what they'd looked like. God.

Did he want this? Was he ready for a relationship and all it entailed? The rumours would probably be awful at the moment. So recently dumped by his girlfriend and suddenly debauched and out of a bathroom with a man. Who was his director. And then the other man was straight or whatever Darren identified as and had just come out of a long term relationship with a woman who everyone knew in the troupe! Oh yeah, and Chris was meant to be straight too with the amount he talked about Melody!

Now look at them.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Fuck.

If Chris could be bothered untangling his arm and knowing that jarring his head wouldn't hurt and feel like a brick dropping on his skull, a facepalm would definitely be in order. This was a mess, pure and simple.

But.

Darren was so warm. He must have shrugged off his shirt earlier because Chris could feel the heat radiating off his half-naked chest.

Darren's eyes fluttered open, his body curling and stretching as he worked out the kinks in his muscles. "Morning," he murmured.

Chris smiled shyly, glad he wasn't facing Darren. "Morning." It was an awkward moment, an intimate moment, but they weren't there yet. They were...well...Chris had no idea where they were. It was easy enough to suggest hopping into bed together when hungover as hell, or to do some sort of no-strings relationship, but Chris knew he couldn't do an emotionless fling thing and it was just too damn fast and he could feel his anxiety bubbling up.

Chris nervously rolled over, his gaze meeting Darren's briefly before he looked away. "The way I see it, we've got two options here. We could have a conversation and make this unnecessarily awkward, or we can get up, get dressed and pretend the last twenty-four hours just didn't happen." Keeping his eyes averted, Chris struggled out of the blankets before Darren grabbed at his arm and made him stop.

"Why are you making this so hard?" Darren questioned, his face creased in confusion. "I like you, Chris. I don't just hop into bed and snuggle up to someone for no good reason and I most certainly do not give people I don't like blow jobs in bathrooms, no matter how badly inebriated I am."

Chris could feel himself panicking at how calm and composed Darren was remaining. He couldn't do this. "We've keep talking about this and going in circles! We're not ready! I'm not ready!"

Darren's expression was unreadable for a few moments. "Let me take you on a date," he said finally.

Okay, that was nowhere near what Chris had been expecting. "What?"

"Why not? At the very least we're friends, right? Why can't we go out to dinner? I'd like the chance to be more than that, sure, but it seems like a good starting point to get to know each other outside of the theatre and living here together."

"I've not…" Chris took a frustrated breath, trying not to come across sounding inexperienced. He had experience. But this town was small and full of talk and rumours and that's precisely what he had just been trying to run away from. On the other hand, would there ever come a time that he could decide something without questioning every option?

His thoughts flashed to Melody, and Bradley.

"O-okay."

Darren gave him a wide grin and a soft squeak of delight before Chris got up and they went about their day with no further discussion on the matter.

"So, sleeping with the director, hey? Or is he just Darren to you now?" Sue inquired cheekily on Tuesday, nudging Chris in his side.

Chris shrugged, his ears turning red as he continued watching Harry for signs they were going to start soon. "I don't know what you're talking about." They were getting ready for warm-up, the absence of Lydia having been noticed immediately and curious chatter being exchanged among everyone except Chris who already knew.

Harry hit the play button on the stereo system, the usual Maroon 5 megamix pounding through the stereo and soon Chris had lost himself in the routine as he followed Harry's movements. Darren strolled in about twenty minutes later, looking frazzled and sleepless. No idea what could have caused that, Chris thought, his chest doing an excited little bounce.

"Sorry I'm late. I had some business to take care of. Chris, could you meet me in the office, please?" He walked out again while Chris was left, standing and blushing with all eyes on him. Way to make it public knowledge, dipstick.

Before Chris had even taken a step, Darren's head popped back around the door. "Oh, and Harry too please." Phew, that was better.

The three stood somewhat awkwardly in the office until Darren spoke. "Right, so with Lydia gone we need a leading lady, someone who can learn the lines and the choreography fast and effectively we have two weeks. Who can we call?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe we should just get Lydia back here for the performance and keep her away from you guys. That's what caused this mess in the first place. Oh wait, we can't!" He looked at Darren pointedly. "Because you are the director," and then to Chris, "and you are the lead male. Honestly, what the fuck has gotten into you two? That little stunt at the party on the weekend didn't go unnoticed by anyone, and firing Lydia this close to production? Seriously, what the fuck?"

Chris glanced at Darren and shrugged, searching for the right words to respond. "Darren and I… No, Lydia started all this shit well before she was dismissed from the cast, implying that we were sleeping together and slapping me and that's the reason Darren wouldn't take her back. It's one of the reasons she was fired, but not all of them. She's been awful, Harry. You would know about her and Josh! You've seen the way she treats the cast! And you've known her longer than I have, so why are you defending her? Surely training a replacement can be done quickly enough, though I don't know anyone in this town so my ability to offer suggestions is moot."

Darren had been relatively quiet during the exchange, his gaze shifting between Chris and Harry to gauge how Harry was taking Chris' explanation. "Look, to be completely honest I just can't work with her anymore. The cheating was one thing, but the ridicule and her little hissy fit at Chris was quite another. And not because of any personal feelings regarding Chris, but because it's not professional and she just doesn't fit in here." Darren fixed Harry with a firm look. "Everyone else gets along fine, some better than most, but she's always been difficult to handle and I'm sick of dealing with her crap."

Harry scowled and crossed his arms. "So just answer one damn question. Are you two together or what?"

Exasperated, Chris rolled his eyes. "Why the fuck does it even matter? It's not like either of us planned it and I-!"

"It matters because if this gets out, no one will care," Harry interrupted, making Chris snap his mouth shut.

Darren looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

Harry sighed. "No one cares what you two do in your own time. In fact, most will just be happy for you, D, that you've finally realised that you're worth more than what Lydia ever gave you. What I care about right now is that this whole performance doesn't get screwed up so you could get rid of your ex-lead from the company and screw your new lead. Just find someone to replace Lydia, and let's get on with it shall we?"

Darren fought down the urge to hit Harry for being so damn crass about Lydia and Chris but Chris didn't look particularly affronted. "So you're not upset?"

"Darren, I really just don't care. Get your shit together. You're not causing internationally newsworthy events by sleeping with a cast member. You're not the first person in a theatrical setting to fall for a show member, and you won't be the last. It's the nature of the business."

With a last look exchanged between him, Darren and Chris, Harry walked out of the office to return to running rehearsal.

Chris' lips twitched at the edges. "Why did we think it was going to be such a big deal?"

Darren stepped closer to Chris, but Chris quickly stepped back to maintain the distance. "So, um...when would you like to go out? Does Friday night work for you?" Darren inquired with his customary grin.

Chris sighed and chewed his lip. "I'm not sure we're going to be able to get through this without Lydia, Darren. Maybe we need to get her back here for the part. I know it'll be awkward and I'm going to continue fighting the urge to strangle her, but she does know the part and supposedly we're adults. This is part of why seeing each other is a big deal to me, because it's already interfering with our ability to work together but also with others."

Chris watched Darren's face fall and step away, because he knew it too. He must have known it before, because the problem wasn't going to make it go away and Darren wasn't an idiot.

"Fine," Darren finally relented. "I'll talk to her, okay? The show must go on, in the most literal sense," Darren said, wrinkling his nose distastefully before walking out of the office and leaving Chris to return to rehearsal with the inquisitive eyes of the rest of the cast on him.

Darren arranged to meet with Lydia that afternoon. It had been a rather horrifically awkward phone conversation with plenty of long pauses before she'd finally agreed, and Darren wasn't sure whether to be grateful or fed up before he'd even arrived.

Lydia walked into the café, a smug look firmly in place. "Crawling back already? That took less time than I thought."

Darren looked up at the ceiling, silently praying for the strength and patience to get Miss High-and-Mighty back on the cast without the melodrama she seemed to carry with her like a cloud. Or that he wouldn't throttle her and leave her dead with her cappuccino upended over her unresponsive face.

"I'm going to ask you to come back to the show. I..." Darren bit his lip as he stumbled over the words. "I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you and would be grateful if you could do this, not for me, but for them. But unless you can pull it together, I'm not going to let you in on another show. This is it, Lydia. Prove that you're worth having in the company or you're out."

The satisfied air around Lydia seemed to crackle with electricity, a half-smile spreading over her face as she blinked steadily. "Okay."

Darren could've listed off some specifics on how to handle her interactions with Chris, warnings about treating everyone with a certain level of respect, but instead he got up to leave. He didn't want to spend any more time with her horrible presence than necessary. "Back at rehearsals from tomorrow. See you then."

It was Thursday, less than two weeks until opening night. The cast was accounted for and no longer using scripts. The choreography was down. The next step was negotiating the set changes between scenes. Darren had been working them hard while figuring out the final decisions on backdrop colours, set repairs and mediating the cast quarrels that invariably flared up from long-term work with highly melodramatic people slowly mounted.

They'd run through the main scenes, blocked the stage placement of the performers and worked tirelessly on the lift featured in the final scene. Chris was strong enough to lift Lydia (thank whatever higher power), but the balance was off.

It couldn't have been comfortable for Chris trying to lift and hold steady when Lydia constantly over or under-shot or missed the line up completely, all while singing and injecting their performances with enough emotion. On the thirty-seventh crash into the practice mats, Chris left the room without another word, grabbing his bag and bottle of water on the way out.

"Chris?" Darren yelled frantically as he ran after him into the car park. "What the hell?"

"At this rate, we're not going to be able to fit the lift into the show. Lydia and I can't work together for it. She doesn't trust me to hold her steady and I'm fucking sick of her voice every time it fails. It's too much. I'm out."

Panicking and thinking Chris was quitting the show rather than just the rehearsal, Darren grabbed at his wrists. "What if we…what about the river? You know, practiced it like they did in the movie? In water?" The suggestion sounded silly as soon as it left Darren's lips, but it had sounded practical enough in his head. Which tended to be the problem with him. His mouth always ran before his thoughts caught up with him.

Chris paused, thinking over the suggestion and looking at his watch. It was three, which meant enough time to get there and back before the end of scheduled rehearsal time. "Okay, if you think Lydia would agree."

Darren raced back inside, running the idea past Lydia who was surprisingly agreeable. Perhaps she was as frustrated as Chris and was approaching that stage of walking out as well.

Ten minutes later, the three were on their way to the river, Lydia following Chris' car and scowling in the rearview at Darren being in Chris' passenger seat.

What Darren hadn't factored in was how exceptionally cold the river was, especially when they stripped down to t-shirts and shorts. Chris, Darren and Lydia got used to the temperature change as quickly as they could, shivering and rubbing their arms.

"So this lift… It's a big deal in the movie, but it's going to be a lot harder on stage. There really isn't any room for error. If you drop her Chris, she'll be falling on stage and the show becomes a horrific and unplanned comedy. Which can't happen. And Lydia, if you miss or wiggle while Chris holds you up, you're going to injure yourself and probably him at the same time because his balance will be off and he'll drop you. You need to be jumping into the lift to help him hold you up and take the strain off actually trying to raise you with his muscles." Darren's words ran into each other, the stress obviously getting to him.

Lydia spoke up first. "Calm down, Dare. It's fine. We'll get this worked out." She lined herself up in front of Chris while he stretched his arm muscles in front of him, placing them carefully on her hips underwater. With a grunt of effort, he proceeded to lift Lydia out of the water, getting about three-quarters of the way into position before his hand slipped and they collectively fell.

Idly swimming ten meters away, Darren sighed and left them to it for a while, watching failed attempt after failed attempt and getting more anxious by the minute. "Guys, can I make a few suggestions?" He swam over to them and realised that really, he was the director. It was his point to make suggestions.

"Right Lydia, you need to be standing in shallower water, so there's enough to break your fall. Chris isn't going to be able to estimate the right strength needed to lift you over his head when you're on stage with so much of your weight supported by water."

"Don't sugar-coat it or anything, will you Darren?" she griped from her position in front of Chris.

He rolled his eyes but stayed silent, moving closer to the shore until they were standing in waist-high water. "Chris, I think your grip needs to be lower. You're supposed to want to touch her. Your confidence in your ability needs to show in your shoulder blades." Darren pushed Chris' hands lower to Lydia's hips. "You remember in the movie? During the lift, Johnny has his hands right on Baby's lower abdomen, supporting with his arms locked rather than trying to pick her up and lift everything at once. Does that make any sense at all?" He sighed, the frustration at himself and the situation evident in his voice. "Just...keep trying Chris. Lift with your knees too, because if you get a back injury, we're screwed."

They kept trying a few times after that little speech. Though the positioning was better, Lydia wasn't getting any more confident being held in the air and Chris was starting to pant with the exertion.

"Ugh. Take a break guys. Swim around a bit. Try and relax." It was easier said than done. The sun was peeking over trees, well on its way to sinking below the horizon.

"Chris? Can you come over here?" Darren stood in the shallow water, close to where they had been practicing earlier. He'd taken off his shirt and beckoned Chris over, positioning their bodies until they were practically stomach to stomach.

Darren pushed the wet curls from his eyes and nodded. "Right, your hands need to go here," he put one of Chris' hands on one side of his waist, "and here," followed by the second, moving his hips slightly to guide them down to his hipbones.

"What are you trying to do?" Chris murmured, slightly annoyed at doing this in front of Lydia, but was distracted by digging his fingers into Darren's hips.

Lydia was looking over in vague interest, although she was rolling her eyes at the completely un-subtle flirting. Really, Darren. I'm your ex. I'm right over here.

"Lift me," Darren smiled confidently.

Chris gaped. "You're kidding, right? You're at least thirty pounds heavier than Lydia. If you want me to hurt my back, you're going about it the right way.!"

Darren shook his head. "Trust me like I trust you. You can do this." Darren ran his hands up Chris' arms, collecting the water until his arms settled along Chris' shoulders. "Lift me," he repeated.

And Chris did, bending his knees and feeling Darren's taut body slide down, then up as he jumped along him in every way possible until he was in the air. Chris' arms locked and held, becoming amazed at his own strength and the achievement that he had managed to lift him at all.

"I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!" Darren screamed, causing the catastrophic downfall of Chris' pleased look when he burst out laughing and buckled, taking Darren down in a tangle of limbs into the water, gasping for air through his giggles.

Chris and Darren were thrashing around in the water trying desperately to regain some composure and laughing uncontrollably when they noticed Lydia was nowhere to be seen.

"Lydia?" Chris called out.

The answer came a few moments later when they heard the roar of a car starting in the distance.

Darren went back to snorting and laughing and Chris just stood blushing. It's not like they'd gotten carried away. It was just a bit of harmless flirting. Besides, they had to learn the lift. And Chris had succeeded, which meant that the problem wasn't Chris, but Lydia.

"I think we might have pissed her off," Chris said neutrally.

"Her unprofessional attitude is really getting to me," Darren scowled, falling back so he was floating in the shallow water. "But it's not surprising really. This will be the last time we'll have to work with her."

"Thank heaven for small mercies," Chris smiled, looking around at the rapidly setting sun. "I suppose we should be getting home. It's going to get dark soon. And cold."

Darren looked around, slightly stunned as if he hadn't noticed his surroundings in hours. "Come here. One more time. Let's see if you can hold it for ten seconds."

Chris smirked. "I would have held it last time if you hadn't yelled out your 'king of the world' status."

Flush up against each other, Chris' hands on Darren's hip bones and staring into each other's eyes, time seemed to stand still.

"I think we should…um...go home." Darren's hand moved to trace a thumb across Chris' lower lip and down to his chin, drawing his lips in for a kiss.

It was light, their lips touching only for a few seconds, breath mingling together with Chris' sharp intake of breath. "I-I'm done hiding, Darren. If you want this, if you want us…I can't fight it anymore. I'd like to try."

It was dark when they pulled into the driveway, the night breeze startling their already cold and wet bodies. Darren hit the shower first, emerging in his customary sweatpants and tee that he wore around the house. When Chris finally left the shower, he discovered Darren had heated up some pizza pockets from the freezer.

They sat on the couch in silence for a while, eating their dinner and sneaking surreptitious glances.

"Chris…" Darren broke off nervously, putting his plate onto the coffee table and shifting a bit closer on the couch, taking in a deep breath "Chris, I want to try…us. You should probably know that though I've always been open to the idea I've never…" God, this was a lot harder than he'd thought it would be, just getting the words to come out correctly.

"It's okay, Darren. We don't have to rush anything about that right now. We don't have to rush anything at all. In fact, we shouldn't," Chris said easily, even though his heart was pounding so loudly he wondered if Darren could hear it.

"Don't get me wrong, I want to." The words came out fast, much faster than Darren thought they would, making a blush rise on his cheeks. Thankfully, it was hardly noticeable unless you were sitting less than a foot away, which Chris sort of was.

"Talking doesn't seem to be working for us," Chris smiled as he said the words, reaching out to run his fingers along the back of Darren's hand, enjoying the twitching he was causing.

He leaned forward, moving his hand up Darren's arm and to the nape of his neck, encouraging him forward so their breath mingled between them until their lips met in the middle. The kiss continued until both were left panting softly and gazing at each other.

Chris looked blissed, eyes wide and lust-blown already with just a hint of nerves showing around the edges. Darren smiled that big toothy grin that lit up the whole room in a matter of seconds and motioned to the hallway. "Should we..?"

"If I remember correctly Mr Criss, you were going to take me on a date. This doesn't qualify as a date. I would like to be wined and dined at some point and don't you forget it."

"Tomorrow," Darren muttered, grabbing Chris' hand and interlacing their fingers, Chris leading the way to the bedroom and Darren's heart beating so fast he wondered if it was possible to just become one continuous stream of rhythm.

Darren put his hand on Chris' hip, brushing at the strip of skin visible there until Chris turned and he could kiss him deeply, enjoying the sensation of exploring the contours of Chris' mouth and the places that would elicit soft sighs and breathy moans from Chris.

The kiss was long and languid, continuing until the back of Darren's knees hit the bed. He sat, pulling Chris down with him to straddle his lap.

Chris ran his palm along Darren's arm, making him squirm with excited energy.

"Can we…?" Darren whispered into Chris' neck, kissing and sucking, moving his lips along the vast expanse of skin there.

Chris trembled nervously. "You don't know what you're getting into. The particulars are…different to what you're used to...I don't know what you want."

A smile played on Darren's lips as he let the words sink in and over the knowledge knew of this sort of situation. "I want you to be with me."

Chris inhaled sharply, his eyes searching for Darren's. "It's your first time at this, so for the sake of, um, comfort, I think...um...maybe..." He was rambling, Chris knew he was rambling, but seriously, this was going to get awkward fast if he was trying to explain what went where.

Darren cut him off, leaning in to brush their lips together. "Shh, let's just see where it goes."

Chris had to pull away to burst into laughter. "Really, Darren? Really?"

Darren grinned, wiggling his eyebrows and stroking a hand over Chris' shirt. "Really." Changing the tone to something more serious, Darren continued, "I'm not afraid of this. I want you. I want all of you. So stop overthinking it so much and just relax." He held Chris steady in his lap so he could hook his fingers beneath his own shirt, lifting it over his head and discarding it onto the floor.

Chris licked his lips in nervous anticipation, eyes raking over Darren's chest, admiring the smooth lines accentuated with dark hair. Darren rolled Chris over and pushed him up the bed, turning to remove Chris' socks and showing off the muscles flexing in his back.

Darren made quick work of Chris' top, chucking it on the floor somewhere and taking a moment to drink in the white skin and taut flesh. He stared into Chris' eyes, seeking the confirmation that he could remove Chris' pants. With a silent nod, Darren undid the top button and, a moment later, helped slide them off and over Chris' feet with great concentration.

Trying to ignore the pain of his own hardness straining in his jeans, Darren ran his palm along Chris' thigh and all the way up to his nipple. "You're beautiful," he whispered.

Chris' cheeks turned pink but he made no effort to respond, choosing instead to prop himself up with his elbow and unbuckle Darren's belt for him. A minute later, there was nothing separating them but the thin fabric of their underwear.

"We should talk about this," Chris said quietly, again.

"What part?" Darren replied, raising his eyebrow.

"You haven't done this before. There are...ways of making it easier...but we're going to have to be strictly honest with each other about the…um, mechanics of it." Chris was trying not to blush but he was miserably failing. "I'd prefer if you…" There was an awkward pause before he struggled to complete the sentence. "Are you familiar with the…Oh my God, why is this so hard?"

Darren smirked at him.

"That was not meant to be funny," Chris huffed. As if it wasn't already awkward enough, he'd completely ruined the mood.

"Hey, no, I didn't mean it like that at all. This is more than a drunken, hormone-ridden romp in the bathroom at a party. It's going to take communication and yes, I'm willing to go with...whatever you think is best."

Chris took a deep breath, running a hand down Darren's chest. "I...I think that it would be more comfortable if you were, um...on top. At least at first."

"So you mean you want me to…?" Darren was blushing ferociously now, but a thoughtful look on his face. "So you've done this before?"

"Darren, now is not the time for that particular conversation. How about for now we just stick to what feels nice?"

"Mm. Stick. I know something I'd like to stick somewhere, so I can run with that." Darren agreed.

Chris giggled but Darren swiftly cut him off with kisses which turned fast and messy and frantic and they didn't even get far enough for sticking things somewhere, as Darren had so crudely assessed, but the little touches and reciprocal grinding and the fire that burned beneath Darren's skin made him think that what he'd shared with Elizabeth and Lydia had been so, so wrong compared to the perfection of this. It didn't matter how fumbling and awkward it was because it was still perfect for them. And after, they lay entwined in the middle of the bed, sweaty and sticky and panting but buzzing with satisfaction.

"Thank you," Chris murmured quietly.

"What? I mean you're welcome, I guess. But...why?" Darren spluttered.

Chris sighed and glanced away, glanced anywhere but Darren's eyes. "There probably wasn't going to be a good time to talk about this, but I'll give you the abridged version." Chris fidgeted with the white sheet tucked under his neck. "At...home, well no, back in my hometown...there was a guy, um...Bradley."

Darren's searched his anxiously, nervously, realising this was probably what had been holding Chris back, what he'd been so afraid of. Sensing the difficulty of the conversation, he cuddled a little closer, held on a little tighter, nuzzling into Chris' chest and letting Chris not feel the need to make eye contact.

"Bradley...um, he...he was my boyfriend. The first real one right after I finally finished school last year. He didn't tell me everything when we met. That's why I...I wanted to say this now instead of lingering on it any longer because he...he was sick, sicker than I knew at the time, sicker than I knew for a long time," Chris paused, fingers playing in the curls on the top of Darren's hair.

"We had just decided to break it off when he told me the bombshell. I...I didn't know or I don't think I would have had the heart to even have that conversation with him. But we had already realised and decided before he told me that it wasn't working and he was firm that I wasn't to take him back just out of pity." Silent tears started escaping, slipping over his face and pooling in a little wet patch on the mattress and sheets and pillows around him.

"He...he died eight weeks later. His mother called me with the news and it was probably the most awkward funeral I've ever attended. It...it was why I dropped out of college after the fall semester and, um, approached my aunt about staying here to house-sit while she's gallivanting the globe this year. I...I just couldn't handle college and the loss and it was just...it was too much."

Darren was shocked by the relatively blunt delivery more than the news itself. He'd already guessed that there had to be something pretty big holding Chris back from the world, because it was more than just the fake relationship with Melody and comments from his old home. He'd always been able to see something more, something in Chris' eyes that Darren instinctively recognised and made him want to care and protect for Chris. A lingering sadness that made him look scared or broken or not good enough, an awkwardness in his composure as he tried to keep himself together around others. Darren wondered how many times Chris had cried himself to sleep since he had moved in with Chris, how many times he'd pushed Chris too much and too far when he should have respected Chris' anxieties and distance more.

Darren wriggled back until he could cup Chris' cheek and wipe the tears away, encouraging Chris' eyes to meet his. "You know this doesn't change anything for us, right? I still want to wine and dine you, to be with you, if you'll let me. I'll hold you together. I'm perfectly healthy apart from the insanity I must have to keep doing shows and having dated Lydia so long so...I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

Chris smiled tearfully, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. "I...I'm scared, Darren," he admitted.

Internally, Darren felt his heart crack a little at how broken Chris sounded. "Don't be," he whispered reassuringly, tucking Chris into his body until Chris' face was in his neck and Darren's fingers were playing gently with the hair at the nape of his hair. Chris might be hurt and scared, but Darren would make sure he wasn't alone.

The date the previous night had, in Darren's opinion, gone well. But then Chris had disappeared around midday and by the time mid-afternoon had rolled around, Darren had started to get nervous and wanted to find where he'd gone. He'd crossed Chris' job of the grocery store off and tried the theatre.

Partial success. Chris' car was at least parked out the front.

"Chris?" Darren called out across the empty theatre space.

"Over here," Chris replied quietly from the darkened recesses of the stage. Darren could have sworn the temperature went up by several degrees as he approached the curtained off area, or maybe that was just a side effect of his sweaty palms.

Chris was sweating, his tank plastered to his back in several places and his hair a mess.

"I just...I needed to get out of the house and decided to run through steps for the 'teaching Baby how to dance' scene. I have to know what I'm doing and lead her through it, and the extra practice is doing me good and making me stop worrying so much."

Darren smiled, glad Chris had the outlet, as he stepped closer and taking in the sound of Mickey & Silver's 'Love Is Strange' playing softly from the corner. "Do you want to, uh, play out the scene? I mean, um, run through the lines or just… Do you need any help?"

Chris smirked, his eyes twinkling in the soft light from the lamp near the piano on the other side of the stage.

"Oh, we should definitely play out the scene."

Darren raised his eyebrows, realisation slowly dawning over his eyes… Oh. Well, if Chris wanted to play it like that... He stripped off his shirt and laid it over the piano stool.

"Let's get to work then," he said firmly and dropped to his knees.

It was Chris' turn to be surprised. But he was down with it. And he'd sort of simultaneously made and agreed to the suggestion. Okay, no need to get nervous, just... "I'll be back in a few seconds."

He darted off the stage and ran to the front door, leaving Darren confused, shirtless and kind of feeling overheated.

In a bit less than two minutes, Chris was back on the stage, throwing his bag and bottled water off to one side. "Just locking the front door," he said easily, like no further explanation was necessary. He continued flitting around the stage, turning up the volume on the stereo and smiling mischievously. "Come here, lover boy."

Darren crawled along the floor, reminiscent of a young Patrick Swayze, but with more…spunk. Or something. He winked, shooting a look at Chris that was more flirtatious and invitational than serious. The room was stifling hot because neither had thought to turn the air conditioning on or maybe it was the emotions almost crackling in the air. Their water bottles were sitting on the edge of the stage and Chris was pretty sure they'd need those later.

Darren knelt in front of Chris, singing the end of the song lowly and looking up at Chris through his eyelashes, the sweat-soaked tee clinging to Chris' skin. He reached out for Chris' hips and as he shifted to his feet, the shirt came with him and over Chris' head. His eyes sought Chris', dark and hungry, their breath mingling warmly as they stood pressed and gazed at each other. A thrill ran down Darren's spine when Chris made the first move, their lips meeting languidly until Darren realised he wasn't breathing properly because he was too busy concentrating on kissing.

"You...you want to…?" Chris' sentence was unfinished as Darren crashed their lips together again, more desperate than before as his fingers clutched at Chris' sweaty skin. He automatically arched his neck away as Darren mouthed down his neck, sucking lightly and scraping his teeth across the sensitive flesh. Chris wanted to growl out a warning but he was too busy gasping at how dizzy he felt already as his fingers tangled into Darren's curls to keep his mouth attached to Chris' throat.

He could feel his knees buckling, his ability to stay upright waning the more he wanted to pin Darren to the floor and lick the sweat he could feel beading along the back of Darren's neck. He pressed his thigh up slightly and Darren shuddered, the grip on Chris' hips nearly painful as their bodies slotted together and Chris struggled to pull Darren off the actual stage and towards shaded area behind the curtains. Darren bit down on Chris' neck at the same time as his foot caught on a piece of fabric and they tumbled to the floor, knees and elbows smacking into the floorboards, hard.

"Ow," Chris whined, rubbing his arm while Darren checked his toes.

"Are you still in one piece?"

Chris glanced over himself quickly. "I seem to be."

"Good, although there's only really one piece I'm interested in to be honest," Darren smirked, clambering over until his hands were grabbing for Chris' body to bring them back together again.

His gasp of surprise was drowned out by Chris' determined grunts to flip them over, an awkward tangle of limbs as he grasped Darren's wrists and held them above his head.

"Well hi," he murmured, suddenly feeling acutely awkward and nervous.

"Hello there," Chris replied, easing his thigh between Darren's legs until Darren's eyes rolled a little in his head and he moaned.

"C-Chris, please...please...can we...?"

Chris' stomach bubbled from the evident arousal in Darren's pleas and he sealed their mouths together again, letting Darren grind against his leg as his head spun with the need for more, always more. He twisted his grip on Darren's hands to free one, moving it down, down, down until he was palming Darren over his sweats.

"Oh shit, Chris...n-no...oh God..."

He froze. "No?"

"No, no, d-don't stop, that was...shit, it feels so good, you have no idea," Darren babbled, raising his hips to press into Chris' hand.

Chris bit his lip to hide his smirk, bending his head to lick at Darren's neck and leave a trail of saliva that would chill with the air. He watched with silent fascination as Darren writhed and the nearly invisible hairs along his neck stood and his skin pimpled with goosebumps, a grin spreading over his face as Darren whined for more.

He trailed his hand up Darren's body, to Darren's intensely loud disappointment and Chris' inward amusement, skimming his fingers over Darren's stomach and moving until he could ruck Darren's shirt up to press wet kisses against the clenching muscles of Darren's abdomen. Above him, Darren was scrabbling at the floor as muffled curses fell from his lips, filthy words that Chris would never admit turned him on but just...seeing Darren come so undone just from the touches of his mouth and hands...well, it was exhilarating.

He slid his hand back down, slipping beneath the layers of elastic until his hand closed in a gentle fist around Darren's erection. Darren's nails clawed at Chris' skin as he groaned, thrusting into the heat of Chris' hand.

"God, more, more," he panted, feeling vaguely pathetic or ashamed at how desperate he sounded but wanting more, craving more.

Chris bit lightly at Darren's hipbone before rubbing his cheek against the fabric covering Darren's erection.

"Chris," Darren hissed out, his eyes squeezing shut and his teeth gritted together as Chris encouraged his hips up so he could tug Darren's sweats and boxers down. Chris swallowed as his face heated into a flush. Jesus.

He couldn't stop himself from flicking his tongue out to collect the precome leaking from the tip and Darren whimpered.

"N-no, won't last."

"Do you..." Chris swallowed again and sucked a mark into Darren's thigh until his thoughts were better collected. "Are you sure?"

Darren nodded quickly, probably appearing too eager, his body trembling with desire and need as he watched Chris suck two fingers into his mouth and wink. Oh God, he was so thoroughly fucked and he hadn't even been fucked yet. He tried to keep watching, tried to maintain eye contact, but feeling Chris' tentatively probing fingers circling his entrance, he struggled not to shut his eyes and just feel.

There was the slightest of pressure, something which felt foreign and intrusive and yet not enough.

"Shh, I have to be slow or it'll hurt. It's going to hurt enough," Chris chided as Darren whined and bent his knees to open himself wider for Chris. "Jesus Christ," he cursed again, biting at Darren's thighs as he continued wiggling his first finger inside. He'd missed this, missed the heat and the desperation to share parts of himself with another person. He wanted to give more, wanted to know Darren was okay and ready, but he also knew this was Darren's first time doing this and he needed to be careful. He stretched his finger and thrust it back and forth, crooking and stroking until Darren's breathless moans turned into shuddering sobs.

"Chris, Chris," Darren begged, his knuckles white as he curled his fingers into fists.

"More?" Chris teased, nudging a second finger against Darren's entrance.

"Please," Darren replied.

Chris steadily worked in a second finger, slinking up Darren's body until he could mouth at the sweaty skin of Darren's neck.

It felt like his veins were on fire, or that there was electricity thrumming along his nerves, every centimetre of their flesh that touched so, so hot as he tugged at Chris' hair until their lips were meeting and everything was too much and not enough. He had to turn away, panting against Chris' ear, his breath ghosting along Chris' sweaty skin, as Chris inched a third finger which made his body erupt with total desperation.

"Chris."

"Shhh," Chris soothed, even though he was utterly aching in his jeans.

With a stifled growl, Darren kicked off his sweats and boxers and struggled with the zip of Chris' pants. "Please."

"Hang on, God," Chris grunted, pressing a quick kiss to Darren's lips and darting over to his bag in the corner.

Darren whined pathetically until Chris returned, already uncapping the bottle and flinching as he slathered the cold lube over his erection. He quickly fell back to his knees above Darren, kissing him and letting his tongue sweep into Darren's mouth. His hand pressed into Darren's hip as he angled their bodies together, a last look into Darren's eyes to make sure.

"I'm ready," Darren promised, wrapping his arms around Chris' neck and raising his hips hopefully.

Chris nodded even as he bit his lip, hiding his face in Darren's neck as he pushed in, the stifling air making him worried he wasn't going to last more than a minute. He could feel the tense hold of Darren's arms, his hands splayed over Chris' shoulders, and he waited, waited, as Darren adjusted to the stretching fullness of Chris being sheathed within him. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to close his eyes and breathe andfeel, or gaze into Chris' concerned face as the pain gradually receded to a numbing ache.

"Move," he commanded in a quiet exhale. The ache eased as Chris shifted and rolled his hips. Their breathing mingled as Chris rocked slowly, whines and whimpers and groans mixing while Darren writhed and scratched at Chris' back. He wanted more, needed more, his ankle hooking over Chris' thigh as Chris propped himself up on one arm to wrap his hand around Darren's cock.

"Oh, oh, oh God, C-Chris, shit," Darren choked out brokenly, his stomach tightening and curling as everything got so, so hot around him and inside him and his head was spinning and he thought he was going to die from the heat.

"C'mon," Chris urged, pumping his hand faster until Darren came, keening as his neck arched and he spilled over Chris' hand and between them. The tight retraction of the muscles in his ass sent Chris over the edge, panting and heaving as he sloppily kissed Darren as they came down from the unbelievable high.

"We should go home," Chris murmured with a tiny, shy smile. He slipped back to retrieve something to clean them up with before Darren pulled him back and kissed him hungrily.

He felt a little pain, a little discomfort still, and knew that it would make practicing with the cast The next day difficult, but it was so, so worth it

The next few days blurred into each other. Working, the final few rehearsals until finally the Monday before the Wednesday night performance it was down to the final costuming runs. Darren was spending less and less time at home with all of his on-stage obligations taking over his life. But it was okay because they had discussed and decided that it would be best to postpone their next date until after the performances so they could be relaxed and really enjoy the time together.

Until then, there were little things like grazing fingertips when they walked past one another in the theatre or longer, languid kisses when they slid into bed beside each other every night.

"Is your body sleeping in my bed going to become a regular occurrence I should be aware of, Goldilocks?" Chris smirked.

Darren snorted, shucking off his pants and nudging Chris further into the middle of the bed. "We agreed to have our second official date after the musical was over. No one said anything about sharing a bed."

"Well, maybe we should add some sort of clause that we don't sleep together again until after?" Chris tried to sound serious, but his voice cracked near the end and his anxious lip-biting kind of gave him away.

"Why would we want to do something like that? You're hot, and you admitted you liked me so...I'm good thanks," Darren decided, nibbling at Chris' jaw.

Still a cocky bastard. But it was nice to have someone sharing the large bed and holding him and making him feel so utterly content and safe each morning

"You should bring your pillow with you. And these sheets are expensive so maybe I don't want your drool on them?"

"Honey," Darren laughed, "you've had way worse than my drool on these sheets so shut up and go to sleep."

He wrapped himself firmly around Chris and felt his dick stirring in interest. "No. Tired. Shoo."

"What?" Chris mumbled, shifting slightly in the dark so they were facing together, tangling their legs together and...oh.

"Talking to myself, g'night," Darren muttered awkwardly, his words trailing off until they both fell asleep.

Costumes though added a whole new level of reality. There was lots of leather and other skin-tight pants, black wife-beaters and changing between scenes to avoid the sweat gathering and becoming noticeable under the hot lights.

Darren caught his thoughts meandering during scenes that featured people other than Chris, not that there were many of them. Sue played an epic Penny though with her pretty flawless acting skills, and her scene with Lydia after the implicated pregnancy was one of the most delicate they'd ever tried to convey.

Lydia had mellowed, getting caught up in the adrenaline of the show itself and even her little self-satisfied comments had tapered down to little more than a raised eyebrow here and there. Josh hadn't shown his face since Darren had seen him and Lydia together. Choosing to bow out gracefully rather than come back and face an inevitable confrontation with Darren was the best decision he could have made in Darren's opinion, because he wasn't sure he wouldn't have rearranged Josh's face with his fist if he'd shown up.

Somehow he also doubted that he was in contact with Lydia either, because surely she would have mentioned that Darren had moved on and set his sights elsewhere.

It wasn't like he'd intended to jump into things with Chris so soon. They'd just sort of clicked and he wasn't one to suppress feelings, and he hadn't cheated on Lydia so his conscience was clear. Sometimes, he wondered if six weeks was too soon to know that you were in love with someone, but it wasn't just that. It was the fun of sitting together over lunch and talking about all manner of things, because they seemed to love the same books and games and movies and most music and it was like they never ran out of things to say to each other and it wasn't those weird conversations he'd had with Lydia when he'd had to scrounge around for topics to discuss.

The dress rehearsal went off without a hitch. The run of four shows was approaching, three night shows and a Saturday matinee. The company was gaining some local notice and notoriety so Darren figured they'd have a pretty good response and if nothing else, there wasn't much to do in the town so the locals were always looking for something new to do on a Friday night.

Chris strolled up behind him, linking their fingers when he got close enough and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "We're almost ready. One more day and there will be an audience out there." He was bouncing slightly on the spot, whether with adrenaline or nerves, Darren wasn't sure.

That night they sat together on the couch and Cwatched a movie, pausing it every few minutes to talk about all manner of things. Chris was definitely nervous because he was having difficulty sitting still on the couch, frequently squirming in Darren's arms and making comments completely unrelated to the movie and Darren had to stop the movie so he could understand what the hell Chris was going on about this time.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Darren declared after the what felt like the 200th interruption in as many minutes. Chris looked surprised when Darren pushed him forward a little so he could move off of the couch.

"What? Why? There's no way I'm going to sleep!" Chris stuttered out, a panicky edge to his voice at the idea of trying to slow down and sleep.

"I'm sure I can think of something to distract you," Darren replied with a wink and a grin, which made Chris' cheeks turn pink as he launched himself to kiss Darren's mouth.

Opening night. Oh God, oh God, oh God. The show had drawn quite a crowd and the theatre was alive with the chattering sounds of an excited audience. Chris was sitting alone, off to the side of the stage, fully dressed and ready, waiting for his first scene.

Lydia was chatting to a group of people on the other side near the door that led in a roundabout way back to the foyer and the entrance to the theatre. Darren squinted and...oh. Her parents. Awkward. They waved at him when Lydia's mother nudged her husband, and he waved back out of courtesy, but he could see from the set of Lydia's father's face that he was disappointed that Darren and Lydia had broken up.

He shrugged, because he really didn't care, and went to kneel by Chris on the floor. "You okay and ready to blow them all way?"

Chris jumped when Darren's hand brushed his knee and his voice broke into his scrambled thoughts. "Y-yeah, just getting into the mindset, y'know? I'm going to go out there and convince a bunch of people that I am the most confident hunk around and that I'm madly in love with Baby when I'm secretly terrified I'm going to go out there and forget all my words and movements and drop Lydia 'accidentally' and crack her pretty little head open."

Darren snorted. "Good to hear you have your priorities straight. You'll do fine. Don't break her head though because that's a mess I just don't want to have to deal with. I'm over the messes she creates." He kissed Chris' cheek and squeezed his knee. "Besides, you're awesome and fantastic and adorable. You'll blow them away. Stop stressing and just let it all come naturally, alright? You'd be surprised how you just slip into the role once you're in the lights again."

Chris nodded but still looked entirely unconvinced.

"And don't forget, you're not allowed to break her pretty little head, but you can break a leg, okay?"

Chris smothered his bark of laughter before it carried out onto the stage and touched his fingers to Darren's before Darren wandered off to check the last minute details and then take his seat in the audience.

There was no time to think while the show was on. It was just this crush of bodies and words, music and heat, running around backstage to change or swap sides for alternate entries or drink down bottles of water while trying not to splash it on the delicate wires of their microphones. But Darren was right, of course he was right, because Chris' anxieties went away when he was up on the stage and it all just came together without his conscious need to draw on lines and actions. His performance felt natural rather than rehearsed and stilted, and he supposed that was a damn good thing.

Intermission came but passed in a dizzying rush in twenty minutes with more water, bathroom breaks and a touch up to any fading make-up or hair before it was back to places and waiting for the hubbub of the audience to settle before beginning again. The final scene in which 'Johnny' persuaded everyone to join into his performance of Time Of My Life had everyone up on their feet and Chris caught Lydia flawlessly (thank God), only holding her up for a few seconds. But the effect was made. The idea was clear. The applause was loud and ringing in their earpieces.

They'd done it.

"I want to take you on a date tonight." They'd had the matinee and had the final show that night so it would be spontaneous and they were exhausted, but so, so happy and exhilarated with the feedback they'd had from the audience members the past few shows. There had only been a minor hiccup with a couple of missed musical cues and a few flubbed lines, but that was the whole idea of live theatre, where you needed to quickly and seamlessly improvise while maintaining the integrity of the show, the feeling of accomplishment growing when the show continued on without the audience noticing the hitch.

"I thought we were going to wait until after? We'll be in no condition tomorrow if we go out tonight." Chris was tired already, to be honest, and he still had another show to do.

"Okay, compromise? How about a stay-at-home date? We'll order in some Chinese and break out a bottle of wine and just take it really easy."

It sounded like a pretty normal night as far as Chris was concerned, but the last few days of the show had left them with barely any energy to really enjoy their time together so relaxing and taking care of bump-out and the after-party tomorrow sounded like a way better plan in Chris' opinion.

"Sounds perfect," he agreed.

Finally it was over: the never-ending rehearsals; the costuming; the performances; the thrill of being up on stage with adrenaline coursing through his veins; the spotlight causing sweat to bead uncomfortably through his make-up. It was all done with.

Darren never knew what made him keep going back, but this time it had been different because he had taken the roller-coaster with someone else who he'd actually wanted to take it with. They had each other now. He didn't know if it would be the last show he'd do together with Chris, or even Lydia (though holy hell he hoped so), or what the future would bring, but maybe it didn't matter because what they had was right now, this moment.

Take my hand

I'll teach you to dance

I'll spin you around

Won't let you fall down

Chris turned in his head in the direction of the music, a soft smile falling over his lips as he recognised the opening tune drifting from the bedroom.

Would you let me lead?

You could step on my feet

Give it a try

It'll be alright

"Chris? Come back to bed!" He shook his head as Darren interrupted his train of thought, wandering out of the bedroom in nothing more than a pair of cut-off cargo pants. Darren paused in front of him, a dopey smile on his face. "If I can't lure you back to bed, could I at least persuade you to dance?" He held out his hand and Chris rolled his eyes fondly.

The room's hush, hush

And now's our moment

Take it in, feel it all and hold it

Chris took it, pulling Darren closer and winding his arms around Darren's neck.

Eyes on you, eyes on me

We're doing this right

Darren's hands rested against his hips, a slow circular sway beginning around the kitchen as he bent his head to rest on Darren's shoulder.

'Cause lovers dance

When they're feeling in love

Spotlight shining, it's all about us

It's a-a-all about u-u-us

"This could be our song you know," Darren whispered against Chris' ear, brushing a kiss to Chris' hair.

Chris laughed and thought back through the list of songs they had listened to, sung together or even heard since they met. "No way. If we're choosing our song, shouldn't it be something more... romantic?"

And every heart in the room will melt

This is a feeling I've never felt but

It's a-a-all about us

"You don't think this is romantic enough?" Darren sang along softly with the lyrics, his cheek against Chris' as they continued to turn and listen.

Suddenly, I'm feeling brave

Don't know what's got in to me

Why I'd feel this way

Can we dance, real slow?

Can I hold you?

Can I hold you close?

The room's hush, hush

And now's our moment

Take it in, feel it all and hold it

"On second thoughts, maybe it's too cheesy-" Chris began, cut off by Darren's mouth covering his.

By the time they parted, the song was almost over. Darren was grinning and cradling Chris' cheeks to stare at him.

Do you hear that love?

They're playing our song

Do you think we're ready?

Oh, I'm really feeling it

Do you hear that love?

Chris felt his face heat as the lyrics washed over him. "Who cares?" Chris decided.

He knew there would be plenty of time for music, but right now there were more pressing matters.

Like spending the day in bed, or making pancakes for lunch and maybe, just maybe, he'd let Darren win.

But only this time.

-End-

**Author's Note:**

> Authors notes:  
> There were a lot of people to support me during the writing process for this story, starting with Kami, who beta’d with the fist of god and to whom I owe at the very least, my right leg. (I offered her my first born but she didn’t want him, and I’m kind of attached to him.)  
> Nic, for the beautiful artwork, which she worked so hard on and it’s absolutely perfect.  
> Ara who planted the initial seeds of plot and sat with me in spirit while I wrote the first 15,000 words.  
> Odd, someone who became my friend through this process alone, for taking the time talking and plotting things out and getting rid of the worst of my Australian slang.  
> Gabby for being my constant, wonderful cheerleader and convincing me that it was going to be good because I wanted it to be.  
> Without these people, and a lot of others along the way this fic would not exist - thank you all so, so much.


End file.
